


Sang Sacré

by bitchwitchchicsxx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood Magic (Harry Potter), Cults, Draco Malfoy - Freeform, Eventual Romance, F/M, Forced Marriage, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Hermione Granger, Sex Magic, Wizarding Traditions (Harry Potter), no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:40:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29181930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchwitchchicsxx/pseuds/bitchwitchchicsxx
Summary: For centuries, pureblood families have taken part in a secret ritual kept from the rest of the wizarding community. This sacred blood magic is the life force for the magic of Britain's wizarding population, and Draco Malfoy has prepared all of his life for his first Solstice. Two years after the end of the war, Hermione uncovers the truth of her heritage and prepares for her life to flip upside down yet again.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 84
Kudos: 233





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> This is not the first I have written, but this is the first Harry Potter fanfiction I've published online so thanks for coming along the ride with me! This idea has been haunting me for quite some time and I'm finally putting it to words. 
> 
> This work involves some aspects of cult-like rituals, blood magic, sex magic, etc as a word of caution.
> 
> As always, all characters belong to JKR no copyright intended

November 7 was circled on a calendar situated neatly in the center of a mahogany desk. At the top in black print read the year 1981. Various appointments were scattered in the boxes, all written in French.

“Darling, it’s time,” a man’s voice called, startling the woman at her spot gazing out the window. One hand raised, fingertips ghosting over the cold glass as she glanced at the grounds of their estate for the last time. It had already started to fog.

“I am going to miss our home,” she responded softly, her eyes glued to the treeline that separated the house from the lake that lay beyond. Long grass swayed in the cool breeze, ruffling the rows of lavender and peonies that filled the gardens off the veranda. Tended to with magic, they bloomed year-round. The flora near the house was well lit and clearly visible from her spot at the window. The flowers and long grass were now bathed in the warm glow that could only come from fire.

A pause, then a slow sigh. Footsteps came to a stop directly behind her, the floorboards creaking under his weight. The man placed his hand at her lower back.

“Camille, we don’t have much time. We’ve been planning for months, the time has come. You know that I wish it didn’t come to this.”

The heat inside the house was reaching its peak. It would overcome the estate soon. Support beams on the other side of the first level were losing their battles with the flames, crashing to the floors as walls caved in around them. The floor beneath them shook with each fallen beam. Camille wiped some sweat off her forehead with her sleeve and took a deep breath.

The ceiling above them creaked and groaned, beginning to succumb to the flames overtaking it. Camille turned, forcing herself to face her husband, cradling a small bundle in her arms. She met his eyes before they both looked downwards.

“She deserves better. No matter what happens, Richard, we protect her and keep her safe. She will be spared from this life.”

In her arms, a small child was bundled and sleeping peacefully, somehow completely oblivious to the destruction falling around them. Chestnut curls framed her face. Almost as if she had sensed the arrival of her father, a small hand moved from the blankets and reached for his finger.

“Amelia Hermione Grenier Nott, you will now be known as Hermione Granger,” Richard stated, smiling softly at the smaller hand wrapped completely around his pointer finger. His eyes returned to his wife, who was staring, resigned, back at him.

The man looked once more around his study and grabbed the book laying out on the desk to the left. Returning to the woman, he pulled a cloth out of his pocket and pulled back the fabric to expose a small thimble.  
“Together,” he whispered, all too aware that the flames were now licking up the door to the study.

“Together,” she responded.

The couple both touched the thimble at the same time and spun away from their estate as the ceiling caved in.

* * *

Hermione Granger wrenched her head upwards, gasping for air like she had re-emerged from a dive underwater. Her hands were clutching a stone bowl on the table in front of her so hard that her knuckles appeared white.

Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she feared her ribcage would break open. _This can’t be happening, oh Merlin, this is NOT happening._

“Miss Granger,” a soft voice called. Soothing hands on her shoulders. She jerked them off of her and pushed the chair underneath her back with such a force the wooden legs squeaked against the tile flooring underneath. She paced to the other side of the room until she nearly ran face-first into the wall. She paused, scrunching her eyes shut.

“Where are my parents?” Hermione demanded, hands now gripping firmly on her waist as she tried to force air into her lungs. “Take me to my parents at once.”

She spun back around, schooling her features into a look that she hoped conveyed less panic than she felt. She met the eyes of each of the four healers sitting around the long conference table, daring them to defy her.

“Miss Granger, you know their condition is delicate-” a frail-looking woman in dark brown robes began tentatively.

Hermione felt anger bubbling to the surface so fast she bit her tongue to keep from lashing out at her parent’s team of memory- recovery healers. They had been the same team since they started a year before, a full year after the termination of the war. Hermione had been painstakingly attentive to who she would select for her parents and had allowed herself some time after the war to come to terms with what had happened and set up arrangements.

“I don’t give a damn. Someone will take me to them right now or I will find them myself! I need to at least try to speak to them and hope one of them is lucid right now. They need to provide more explanation than this one damn memory you just threw on me!” She gasped more air into her lungs, desperately trying to calm the fluttering of her racing heart. 

The road to recovery had been a long and complicated process following their obliviation. The strength of Hermione’s spell, due to her level of love and fear for her parents, had taken a very long time to break through. On top of that, the years that had dragged on during the war made reversal harder and harder. Her parents were remembering, but it was not a consistent process. Some days she walked into the Center for Mind Healing at Sydney, her parents had no recollection of her at all. Other days, they thought she should be much younger, ranging from a toddler to around eleven years old. The days in which her parents appeared lucid were so few and far between that Hermione barely allowed herself to hope for them anymore.

Rarely did they recognize her to be around the age she was when she obliviated them, considering she didn’t look much different at twenty than she did at seventeen. The differences that did exist were welcome to her. She had grown more into her body, with soft curves and more feminine features. Her wild mane had tamed into looser curls that reached her waist. 

The healers all shared a glance with one another until an older man sat up straighter in his seat. He turned to Hermione, who had resumed pacing in front of the table again.

“Miss Granger, if you calm down I will bring you to your family. Your father has been more lucid than your mother recently, and I will be willing to help you get the answers you’re looking for but only if you calm down.” His voice commanded authority, and to everyone’s surprise, Hermione did stop moving around.

“Thank you, Healer Daniels,” Hermione almost whispered. She shut her eyes again, counted to three, and exhaled deeply. “I’m sure you can understand this is a… delicate situation.”

Healer Daniels nodded, stood from his seat, and took a few steps towards her. “As soon as he remembered this, your father made us assure him that we would show you this memory. He wants you to know just as much as you do. Let’s just hope he still remembers this conversation."

Hermione followed the healer down the long, obnoxiously bright hallway to her parent’s room, adamantly shoving down any emotion and existential crisis that threatened to cross over her face. If she wanted to get anything out of her parents, she surely couldn’t turn into a blubbering mess in front of them.

She took one final, deep breath outside the door and exhaled slowly as Healer Daniels swung it open, coming eye-to-eye with her parents who appeared to have been waiting for them to arrive.

“Hermione, honey, please let us explain,” her mother called, gripping her father’s forearm so tight he was sure to have bruises.

“Don’t you mean ‘Amelia’?” Hermione replied, as she stormed past Daniels into the room and slammed the door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update today! Thanks to those that have already left kudos and commented! Please let me know your thoughts!

_April 15, 2000_

The earliest portkey to the British Ministry of Magic wasn't until the following morning, so Hermione spent her last few hours for the foreseeable future in her flat, packing away all of her belongings into just her beaded bag and one trunk- both containing undetectable extension charms. Her landlord lived in the apartment above her, and she pushed a letter underneath the door apologizing for the late notice, thanking her for his hospitality, and notifying the man of her swift return to London in the morning. 

Hermione did not sleep even a minute. She paced and paced around the now empty place, drank endless cups of tea, and tried to reason out possible answers to her many questions. She decided that she wouldn't be informing anyone of her return to London until she had more information to actually tell them. She just hoped the Leaky Cauldron still had a room available when she portkeyed back. If she spoke to Harry or the Weasley's, they'd be roping her into all of these social commitments and conversations she just simply did not have the emotional energy for at present. 

When the time came, she caught her portkey and rented a room at the Leaky- luckily Hannah Abbott had found her a space and promised her discretion, which Hermione had no doubt was sincere. She was in and out of the room in under two minutes to drop off her things before she was heading back outside to the apparition point and on her way to her home. 

Hermione was shaking when her trainers hit the grass in the back garden of her childhood home. She took a few steadying breaths before allowing herself to cross the garden and reach the back door. Portkey travel always had a way of disorienting her and it only got worse the farther the distance traveled. Sydney was far enough from London to almost make her vomit. She normally tried to eat something to settle her stomach before traveling, but she couldn't even imagine stomaching anything besides tea (or perhaps something stronger) at the moment. The back-to-back sensations of apparition and portkey had black outlining the edges of her vision. She took another deep breath, willing her body to cooperate as she flung open the back door. 

For perhaps the thousandth time, Hermione reviewed the information she already knew. Half an hour had not been nearly enough time to have what was probably the most important conversation of her life. Her mother, too worked up from all of the excitement, had started panicking and regressing, which led to Hermione being unceremoniously dumped outside their room before they sedated her. 

Before that happened, however, Hermione was able to get some answers. Her parents had faked the deaths of their family of three and fled from their estate somewhere in France a few weeks following Voldemort’s first defeat- the night Harry’s parents had died- and relocated to what they assumed would be a safe London. She was also able to deduce that due to the identity changes and lack of records, Hermione had been registered as a Muggle-born by the Ministry of Magic and subsequently Hogwarts when she showed up for her education. 

Hermione snorted to herself as she let herself into the kitchen, steadily walking through the house to the stairway at the front. How ironic was it that the arguably most famous Muggle-born witch of all time wasn’t even a Muggle-born at all? In fact, Hermione had been told by her parents that she was a Pureblood, and a member of the Sacred 28 at that. 

Her father- who was actually named Richard Nott- was the younger brother of Tiberius, who she had seen in person only once from afar at King’s Cross station during her fourth year. Tiberius was the father of her previous classmate Theodore, who was probably the only Slytherin she had ever remotely gotten along with. More recently, Hermione had seen Tiberius' face on the Daily Prophet following his trial.

While they were unable to talk much about her mother’s family, she was told her name was Camille Grenier, which was a notable French Pureblood family. They had chosen "Granger" as their new surname to have some semblance of familiarity in their new identities. 

While she had never seen her parents use magic, she had no idea how this fits into everything. She had been all but thrown out of the hospital room by the healers when she had started to ask about it. Had her parents lost their magic? If so, how? If not, had they given it up? Why? Had they been magical all this time and kept it from her? 

All of the questions were ricocheting in her brain. The revelations, while they contained not nearly enough information to satisfy the young witch, were shocking and had already completely erased her sense of identity. 

Not a Muggle-born, not a Granger, not even Hermione. _Amelia Nott_. 

She shook her head as she climbed the steps, forbidding herself from thinking about that. Not right now. She’ll deal with that later over a glass of wine. Or perhaps, the whole bottle. Surely no one would blame her for indulging after the clusterfuck that was today. 

Immediately before she left the hospital room and with big, remorseful eyes, her father had pulled her to the side with one last parting bit of information. 

_“Darling, I know this is a lot to take in and you’re probably furious with us right now. We were supposed to have years to tell you about this, but with the war and the obliviation, I’m afraid we’ve run out of time. Return to our home in England, go into my study, and find the loose floorboard by my desk. Bring what you find inside to Nott Manor. It will be a shock for everyone involved, and I promise I’ll explain whatever you want to hear about when I’m able, but there’s something happening this June you need to be prepared for and they’re the only ones that can help you.”_

She hurried down the hallway, floorboards groaning beneath her feet after years of disuse. This served as one of the only reminders in the house that time had indeed passed. Besides a light layer of dust visible if one looked close enough that finally overcame the stasis charms left years prior, the house looked identical to how it had the day she obliviated her parents. She continued down the hallway, averting her eyes from the pictures lining the walls until she reached the last door on the right, her father’s study. Hermione could only recall coming into this room a handful of times throughout her childhood. It felt almost wrong to be standing in here without her father even now as an adult. 

After forcefully ripping the deep red rug away from the floor and shoving it to the far corner of the office, she paced back and forth across the room until she found the correct floorboard, one that sounded almost more hollow from the rest, and carefully removed it. Beneath the boards was a small, dark-colored box. 

Furrowing her eyebrows, Hermione lifted the box up and placed it in front of her. She sat cross-legged on the floor and gingerly traced a finger across the carved initials _RTN_ before she summoned enough courage to open it. Inside, the box was lined with deep violet velvet and contained one, small book. 

Hermione recognized, suddenly, that she was looking at the same leather-bound book she had seen in the Pensieve at the hospital. It was the book her father had grabbed last minute before portkeying out of the house. She carefully picked up the book and thumbed through the pages. Inside the book about halfway through was tucked a folded piece of parchment and an old, frayed magical photograph. 

The picture depicted two young men, approximately in their 20s, dressed impeccably in dark, expensive-looking robes. They were standing in front of a grand staircase and in their arms were two young infants, one in pink robes while the other in navy blue robes. Like all magical photographs, this one had a continuous looping motion. Both men were shown locking eyes with each other, smiling, and looking at the children in their arms. 

Hermione didn’t need to flip over the picture to know who this photo was of, but sure enough, on the back and in her mother’s script, was the inscription: _Richard, Amelia, Tiberius, and Theodore at Nott Manor, May 1981._ Her heart lodged in her throat. This was the oldest picture she had ever seen of herself, magical or otherwise. Her parents had told her the baby pictures of her had been lost during a move when she was a toddler and subsequently, Hermione had never seen herself before the age of about five. It was clear that she was only a few months old in this image. It was also shocking to see her father in a magical photograph, one that could capture the light in his eyes as he laughed and the slight that dimple on his chin that appeared halfway through the loop. 

The parchment was sealed with wax the same color violet as the velvet in the box. Again, the initials _RTN_ were across it. On the opposite side was the name Tiberius, written in her father’s script. Hermione frowned as she debated opening the letter for all of five minutes before deciding against it. It was clear this was for her uncle to open. That thought sent a shiver down her spine. Her _uncle_ Tiberius Nott. 

Tiberius Nott was sentenced to three years of house arrest following his involvement in the Second Wizarding War as a Death Eater. Considering the war had ended almost two full years ago now, he only had around a year left. How he avoided Azkaban, Hermione had no idea, but it wasn’t that surprising to her as even those who had been forced to return to the prison were nearing the end of their sentences. If memory served, not even Lucius Malfoy got jail time, and she wondered what kind of information the two men must have given up in exchange for house arrest. 

Hermione packed the book, which she was unable to read as it was in French, the photograph, and the letter back into the box with her father’s initials on it. Standing on unsteady feet, she replaced the floorboard and rug, lest anyone come into the house for some reason and notice anything out of place, and apparated to the room she had rented for the night at the Leaky Cauldron. She wasn't ready to deal with anyone that knew who she was just yet, so asking Harry or Ron to spend the night was entirely out of the question. 

Placing the box on the small nightstand next to the bed, she quickly penned a letter to her old classmate, finding the idea of writing his father much too intimidating. 

> _Theo,_
> 
> _I’m sure you’re as surprised to get this letter as I am to have to send it. Please forgive me for skipping the pleasantries, but I would be forever grateful if there was any possibility I could meet with you and Lord Nott as soon as possible. I believe I have some information that you would both find most interesting and I’m hoping you could shed some light for me._
> 
> _Best,_
> 
> _Hermione Granger_

The brunette rolled up the parchment and opened the window on the other side of the bed to whistle for an owl. A small, light-colored, tawny owl flew to the perch at the window and ruffled its feathers as it waited for Hermione to tie the missive to its leg. 

Tossing an owl treat to the bird and gently petting the feathers at its crown, she whispered, “To Nott Manor, please, and as quick as you can.” 

Hermione collapsed on the stiff, uncomfortable bed and stared at the ceiling as she waited for a response. She silently begged and pleaded that their curiosity would be enough to invite her over. If this ended up as a dead-end, Hermione didn’t know what she would do. The questions inside her were overwhelming, bouncing all around the inside of her head so quickly it was tiring to try to even keep up with them. And as much as she dreaded having to come face to face with a Death Eater she may have turned her wand on during the war, she couldn’t help but think about the opportunity to meet a magical member of her family. 

Luckily, Hermione didn’t have to wait long for her reply. Three loud taps at the window by her head broke her out of her reverie and she turned to see a large, black owl was tapping against the glass. Thanking the owl with a treat and a scratch at the top of the head, she eagerly pulled the parchment from his leg and unscrolled it. 

> _Granger!_
> 
> _Long time no talk, I have to admit you’ve piqued my interest. We’ve opened the Floo for you at 3 pm._
> 
> _See you then,_
> 
> _Theo_

* * *

A few hours later, Hermione was checking her appearance in the small mirror over the bathroom sink one last time before she checked her watch: 2:58 pm. She had pulled the top half of her hair back from her face in twists and spruced up the rest of her curls to look more uniform and put-together. Light mascara and eyeliner framed her caramel eyes and a light gloss was swiped across her lips. Light blue, warm weather robes hung off her shoulders, leaving a light but modest sundress underneath. 

The stubborn half of her was indignant she had put any effort into her looks before embarking on this visit. She was about to have tea with a Death Eater and his son, who she had barely ever interacted with at Hogwarts. If she were being completely honest with herself, she was shocked these two men were even allowing her into their house. For all they knew, she was still the Mudblood they believed her to be. Well, now come to think of it, she couldn’t remember where Theo had stood on the blood purity issue. She knew he had never received the Dark Mark, neither had he ever spoken derogatorily to her. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t a blood purist, either. 

The rational side of her knew it was necessary to make an impression on this family, Death Eater or not. She was, after all, a member of their family that had been presumed dead nineteen years ago. And there was the matter of this family being the only people that could give her the answers she so desperately craved. Additionally, her father had mentioned some sort of a time deadline for something he obviously thought was important. She needed to look the part of the Pureblood she now knew herself to be in order to be taken seriously by her uncle and cousin. 

“Good as you’re going to get, Granger,” she told her reflection before grimacing. The issue of her name was going to take getting used to. 

She locked up her room as she left, nearly skipping down the few steps that separated the living quarters from the Floo fireplaces in the main room. She took one last deep breath, threw down some Floo powder from the bag nearby, and called out Nott Manor before she could second guess what she was doing and talk herself into staying home and pretending this all never happened.

When green flames settled, Hermione stepped out into a room the size of her flat near the hospital in Sydney. Tall windows stretched from floor to ceiling at her right, with long cream curtains that trailed to the floor. Near her were a few settees, and directly in front of her against the opposite wall was a bar cart with tumblers and bottles of various kinds of whiskey. 

“Hermione Granger,” a low voice drawled out from her left, “what a sight for sore eyes.”

Hermione jumped at the unexpected sound and whipped around to face the voice, clutching the mahogany box to her chest with both hands. Leaned against the door frame was Theodore Nott, wearing a casual set of forest green robes that he had left open. Underneath was a pressed white button-down shirt lacking a tie, tucked into black, fitted trousers. He had lazily crossed one ankle over the other and was of course wearing Dragonhide shoes that probably cost the equivalent of Hermione’s monthly salary. 

Dark brown locks that curled near the ends framed his face. His hair was much longer than Hermione had ever remembered seeing him sport while at Hogwarts. Brilliant, green eyes were perusing her form, cataloging her appearance just as much as she was his, she noticed. A sophisticated kind of smirk graced his features, and Hermione noted that while it had only been about two years since she had seen him in person, Theo had grown a lot. She had to tilt her head up even higher to make eye contact than she ever had to during Arthrimancy, one of the only classes they had been paired together in. 

She forced a smile on her lips. “Theo, thank you so much for agreeing to meet me on such short notice.” She didn’t miss how his gaze lingered on the box in her arms before flickering back to her face. 

“It was certainly a surprise to receive your owl earlier, but a pleasant one nonetheless. I have a feeling the surprises don’t stop there though, do they?” He replied, soft-spoken as ever. He had turned away from her and began walking right down a hallway with high ceilings. As she followed, she let her gaze drift and took in the many paintings that decorated the space before they arrived in a drawing room.

A man slightly older than her father stood from his settee as they entered, face carefully blank and devoid of emotion as he evaluated her. He, too, was wearing robes, but they were colored a dark grey. Up close, the similarities to her father were striking. They had the same, honey brown eyes that were at present gazing at her with intrigue. They shared the same chestnut-colored curly locks that had some streaks of silver now in their age. She felt her heart hammer in her chest as he appraised her. 

“Father, this is Hermione Granger from my years at Hogwarts. Hermione, this is my father, Tiberius Nott, the Lord of the Manor.” Theo supplied, gesturing for Hermione to take a seat at the settee across from them as he joined his father on his right. 

Hermione bowed her head slightly in greeting, unable to look away from Tiberius. “Pleasure to meet you. Thank you both for inviting me here.” 

The three sat and the tension in the room increased. Tiberius nodded at her in reply. “Tea?” 

“Oh, please,” Hermione tightened her grip on the box still in her hands subconsciously. The movement drew Tiberius’ attention, and he narrowed his eyes at the object, seemingly trying to determine why he recognized it. Her heartbeat thud against her chest in anticipation. How was she supposed to start this conversation?

“Moppy,” Theo called. The sharp crack of the apparition to the room nearly made Hermione jump out of her seat as her nerves reached an all-time high under Tiberius’ sharp gaze. A small house-elf appeared close to Theo, but as soon as she appeared, she fell to her knees in front of Hermione. 

“Oh, Moppy is so sorry, Mistress Nott,” both men snapped their heads to face her, “Moppy did not know the Mistress was coming. Moppy should have been there to greet the Mistress.” 

“Moppy, bring us the tea we requested and leave us,” Theo commanded, but his voice sounded strained. Tiberius was looking between the two of them, incredulously. 

“Mistress Nott? Theo, do you have something to tell me?” His father inquired, his voice low and threatening. Hermione suppressed a shudder at the sound and clutched tighter at the box in her lap. Theo shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Moppy reappeared with the tea that she set on the table in between them before popping back out of the room and leaving the three of them alone. 

“Father, I-” Theo began, looking at Hermione with eyes full of distrust and suspicion before facing his father again.

_Well, better now than never._

“Lord Nott,” Hermione began softly, and both men turned their attention to her. “I can assure you, it’s not what you are probably thinking right now. I’m actually here to ask you for help. My life has been turned upside down in the past few days and I was told you were the only ones I could turn to.” 

Tiberius nodded, flickering his gaze back to the box that sat in her lap before meeting her eyes once more. Hermione took a deep breath and faced Theo. 

“Theo, I’m not sure if you know, but during the war, I had to obliviate my parents out of fear for their safety. They assumed new identities in Australia until I was able to track them back down and begin undoing the spellwork.” There was _no_ conceivable way she would be able to face Tiberius and talk about the war. “I’ve been splitting my time between London and Sydney, where they have been hospitalized since we began. It’s been a long and complicated process, and most days they don’t remember me at all or think I should be half my age. Anyways, a few days ago, I was called into the hospital to view a memory they had retrieved from my father. After viewing it, he sent me to my childhood home outside of London and instructed me to bring this box to you.” 

She turned the box to face them on the table and opened it. Recognition dawned on Tiberius’ face as he viewed the initials at the latch. She handed Tiberius the letter with his name facing up and placed the image on the table in plain view of the pair.

“It turns out my whole life has been a lie. Not only am I not a Muggle-born, but I’m also not named Hermione Granger, rather-”  
  
“Amelia Nott,” Tiberius whispered, touching the photograph with the most careful of fingertips, staring at Hermione’s father in the picture. 

Hermione risked a glance at Theo, who looked like he had just swallowed a grand piano, before looking back at Tiberius and nodded. 

“Their memories are very touch-and-go, yet I do know my parent’s true identities to be Camille Nott nee Grenier and Richard Nott. They faked their deaths some nineteen years ago and raised me as Muggles. I’m terribly sorry for the shock, but I’m afraid that is all I know at the moment,” she looked back up at Tiberius, who was on the verge of tears. 

“You’re telling me that Richard is _alive?”_ The envelope in his hand was now being crushed. He sounded as though he had swallowed a cup of gravel. “Richard has been alive all this time? And in England?” Tiberius looked haunted, unable to tear his gaze away from the image of his brother in his fingertips. 

He suddenly flew up from the chair and rounded the table separating them. Hermione flew to her feet, overwhelmed with the sudden display of emotion. “Amelia, alive, oh my gods,” he grabbed her shoulders and squeezed, his face still a picture of utter disbelief. 

“Father,” Theo called from his spot, his voice barely above a whisper, still too shocked to move from his seat. “I thought my cousin Amelia died when we were only a year old, how can we be sure this is her?” He was staring at the picture. 

“Boy, she came with my brother’s safekeeping box I gave him upon his graduation from Hogwarts. It’s charmed to only open to direct heirs or himself, and I don’t see him in here, do you? She also came with a picture of the four of us, a letter addressed to me in his handwriting, and the French novel I gave my sister- in-law a few days before the fire,” he answered, not taking his eyes off the young woman in front of him, “Not to mention the bloody house-elves even recognize the Nott blood in her.” Tiberius released her arms as Theo nodded, more to himself than to anyone else, and finally allowed himself to believe the news. 

Hermione cleared her throat and glanced imploringly between the two men in front of her. “I was hoping there might be more information in the letter... I haven’t opened it as it’s obviously addressed to you. This is a lot to take in, and my father mentioned something about an event in June that I have to prepare for?” 

They both paled noticeably and exchanged glances. “Look,” Theo began, “there is so much that we have to discuss. I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to go down that road yet. I think the much more pressing issue is where you’re staying at the moment.” 

“Oh, well, I’m just staying at the Leaky Cauldron. I’ve been in Australia for the past few months dealing with my parents. I usually stay with the Weasley's or Harry when I'm in London for work, but I couldn't bear facing them yet... I'm still processing. I brought everything from my flat, so I don't have to worry about going back there quite yet unless something happens with my parents of course." Hermione rambled, tugging on a curl that had fell forward over her shoulder. 

Tiberius crinkled his nose at the news. "I know this is all happening very quickly, but I think it would be best for everyone involved if you moved into the Manor," he said, releasing her at once as he realized he was still holding her. 

Hermione's wide eyes met his as she sputtered, "Oh, I couldn't impose like that, I have enough money on hand to afford a few more nights at the Leaky-" 

"Granger," Theo cut her off before she could derail herself any further. "I'll come back with you to the Leaky, grab your stuff, and we can have Moppy prepare your room here. You're not imposing, this is your ancestral home, and it's just the two of us staying in this house anyway, so it's not like there would be a room shortage. We'll be able to figure out this whole situation together a lot easier this way. Besides, you will not be spending money just to stay in a tiny, dirty room where you can risk one of your Gryffindor friends figuring out you're back in the country before you want them to know." 

Hermione hesitated. There really wasn't a reason why she wasn't jumping on this opportunity besides it feeling like the one aspect she could control in this entire situation. She looked at Tiberius, standing a few steps back, who was looking at her, still with such wonder that he was trying to cloak in an expression of poise but failing. He looked as though he wanted to reach out and grab her just to remind himself that his niece really _was_ alive and standing in front of him, but had enough self-control to realize how overwhelmed she was a refrain. Hermione faced Theo again, who looked the same as his father, except he did reach out and place a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

"I know so much is happening right now," he began, his voice gentler now, and his eyes darting to his father every few seconds. "I know you're overwhelmed. But let us do this together. We are family, after all." He finished with a small, soft smile, and squeezed her shoulder. 

Hermione closed her eyes, took a breath in, and held it for five seconds. On the exhale, she counted to five again. This wasn't much to ask. It probably would be more convenient, and she would do this like she did almost everything else: headfirst. She opened her eyes slowly and met Theo's gaze with a small smile of her own. 

"Okay."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> Thank you to those that have been leaving kudos and comments! Here's the next chapter, see you next Tuesday (lol)!

_April 16, 2000_

The next morning came quicker than Hermione wanted it to. She wished she could lay in her new ridiculously comfortable bed with satin navy sheets, throw the pillow over her face, and dive right back into that peaceful, simple, happy dream that had escaped her as soon as the sunlight peeked through the curtains. 

“Good morning, Mistress,” a high pitched voice sang from across the room. Hermione rolled towards the voice, rubbing her eyes as the sound of the curtains pulling back gave her a second’s warning before the room filled with light. It was the house elf from yesterday, who Hermione had seen only a handful of times since they had tea. 

“Good morning, Moppy,” she called back, voice still thick with sleep. Clearing her throat, Hermione slowly sat up and swung her legs off the side of the bed. Moppy already unpacked all of Hermione’s clothes shortly after the bags arrived at the Manor, and the elf was pacing the closet picking out a few dresses and laying them on the edge of the bed. 

“Oh, Moppy, I thought we talked about this, I can do all that,” Hermione began, now fully out of bed and following the small creature back into the closet across the room. 

Moppy laughed, a twinkling sound that made Hermione smile. “Mistress, Moppy is wanting to help Mistress get ready for the day. Moppy has not had a Mistress since Master Theo’s mother died many years ago. Moppy wants to help Mistress Amelia. Is Mistress wanting a bath?”

“But Moppy, I am perfectly capable of doing these things for myself. I will not have you waiting on me like a slave! It’s honestly absurd so many families still have such an archaic way of functioning!” Hermione huffed, crossing her arms. “I suppose I would like a bath though.” She murmured to herself, heading to the attached ensuite to start her own bath. 

Moppy apparated around Hermione, rolling her eyes at her as she drew the bath and added some light fragrance oils into the pouring water. “Moppy is not a _slave_ , Mistress. Moppy has served House Nott for centuries, and Moppy’s mother for centuries before her. Moppy is happy, appreciated, and has a purpose. Does Mistress know of house elf and family bonds?” 

Hermione frowned. “Not much, I must admit.” A lavender and citrus aroma drifted up from the bathtub and joined at Hermione’s nose. She took another deep breath, allowing the tension building in her muscles to subside.

Moppy motioned for Hermione to start undressing as the water in the bathtub neared the top edge. “Moppy’s family has been attached to House Nott for centuries. When the agreement between houses and elves was made, it joined the sacred magic of both wizards and elves,” Hermione, now undressed, sunk into the water that was exactly the perfect temperature with a sigh. “It strengthened all involved. For the elves, it provided family magic to draw off of and stabilize our own. Elves can do more complex magic when attached to a family than if they are freed or work for money without the blood magic that links us. For the families we serve, we is built-in allies they know they can trust completely. House elves don’t just do the laundry and make food, Mistress. House elves like Moppy take care of children, maintain priceless family heirlooms, protect the families they serve. If Moppy were freed, Moppy would mourn the family Moppy has known all of Moppy’s life. Moppy would have failed Moppy’s family and the noble House of Nott, and Moppy would lose almost all of Moppy’s magic.”

Hermione gasped. “Oh Moppy, I had no idea. I just was under the impression that it was only the wizarding families that benefited. I still don’t want to do anything that would make your life more difficult, however.”

Moppy smiled and shook her head as she collected the discarded clothes on the floor. “Mistress has much to learn. And Mistress is not making Moppy’s life difficult at all. It has been such a long time since Moppy has even touched a dress.” 

Once she was alone, Hermione focused on her Occlumency, a skill she started working on once Harry began his private lessons with Snape. She sat with her back against the porcelain wall of the tub and crossed her legs as she took steadying breaths with her eyes closed. She walked slowly down the bookshelves that organized her mind, picking up books that fell from the shelves and were strewn over the aisle. The first in her hands, which symbolized her parents, was in bad shape. Pages from the book were ripped out and there was red ink angrily scribbled over many of the pages she thumbed through. Calmly, she repaired the book and tucked it into its place on the shelf to her right. She continued on, examining all of the books that were out of place, processing, and replacing them where they belonged. Her fingers drifted over the book of Harry that rattled on the shelf, trying to break free. She felt guilty for keeping all of this from Harry, the one person in the world she truly trusted with everything, but it wasn’t the time to involve him just yet. She stilled his book, tucked it securely into the shelf, and continued on. 

After all of the books had been tended to, Hermione took another deep breath and strengthened the walls that held her library secure. It was then she decided that in the chaos that was her life right now, she would choose to open a new door and give herself a new start. She still didn’t know much about the Nott’s involvement in the war, but they were her family now. A family that was ripped from her at such a young age. Now she was here, she couldn’t help but want to give in to the excitement of having her own magical relatives. A family that understood her, that she didn’t have to hide so many integral parts of herself from. The idea that she might actually be somewhere she could finally belong was tantalizing. Hermione loved her parents dearly, but there were so many things growing up she felt the need to keep from them because they wouldn’t understand. Hogwarts was her home, but the castle in all of its magical glory didn’t erase the feelings of imposter syndrome Hermione had struggled with since she first expressed accidental magic. If anything, the environment had nurtured the insecurity. Here, with the Notts, she might be able to actually belong. 

Following her bath, which left her relaxed and ready to start the day, Hermione got dressed, put on some simple makeup, and made her way downstairs to the dining room with Moppy’s direction. After tea last night, Theo and Hermione had returned to the Leaky Cauldron, got her bags, and returned to a guest room in Theo’s wing of the house that Moppy prepared for her. Theo’s door was across the hall from hers which comforted her slightly, knowing the most familiar aspect of her life was close by. After ensuring she needed nothing else and encouraging her to call for Moppy if she needed anything, Theo had left her alone for the remainder of the night. Hermione hadn’t even gone down to dinner when Moppy had announced it, but had some soup in her room and read a book in an attempt to get her mind off things. She had appreciated the space both men afforded her yesterday, but today she was ready to start adjusting to her new normal. 

At the table, Tiberius and Theo were both seated; Tiberius was at the end of the table, digging into a very delicious-smelling plate of food. To his right, Theo nursed a steaming cup of tea as he read the Daily Prophet and pushed some eggs around on his plate. At the sound of her entrance, both men looked up with smiles.

Hermione grinned and sat at the other place setting to Tiberius’ left. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” they replied in unison as Hermione began making her plate. 

“Sleep well?” Theo inquired, pouring her some tea and pushing the sugar over to her. 

“I think that’s the most comfortable bed I have ever slept in,” she said and began digging in. 

Theo rolled his eyes from across the table. “And to think you still wanted to stay at the Leaky.” Hermione rolled her eyes back at him in response. 

“Any plans for today?” Tiberius asked, glancing quickly at Theo. “I have some Ministry business I need to tend to today, so unfortunately I won’t be around as much as I would have hoped for your first day with us, but Theo should be able to show you around.”

  
“That would be brilliant, actually. Perhaps we could start with a tour? Only if it’s not too much to ask, of course.” Hermione felt herself blushing slightly in embarrassment. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

Theo rolled his eyes at her again from above the rim of his cup as he sipped his tea. “You’re not a bother. I’ll be around all day until dinner, I have plans with Blaise and he’ll kill me if I cancel on him again.”

At the mention of their fellow classmate, Hermione stiffened. Sensing this, Theo quickly moved to reassure her, “I won’t say anything about you and, well, this whole thing. We both hoped we could keep it quiet for a little while, actually,” he gestured to his father, who nodded in assent. “It would give us time to figure all of this out without others sticking their noses where they don’t belong. Whenever you’re ready to start telling others, of course, we would support you. We also, selfishly, want some time alone with you before everyone’s fighting for your attention.” 

Hermione smiled between bites of toast and forced the tension to leave her shoulders. They were on her side with this. “I think that’s a great idea. It gives us all time to process before everything gets even more complicated.”

“You don’t even know half of it,” Theo muttered under his breath but spoke again before Hermione could ask for clarification, catching her furrowed brow and a swift nudge under the table from his father. “There is something I wanted to ask you though.”

Hermione motioned for him to continue as she took a sip of her tea, glancing over at Tiberius who had pushed away his plate and focused his attention solely on her. 

“Well,” Theo looked anxiously at his father before facing her again. “There is the matter of your name.” 

“Yes,” she sighed in response, tapping her fingers against the teacup. “For right now, I don’t really care what you call me. You should probably stop referring to me as ‘Granger’, however, considering that’s no longer true. Hermione, Amelia, that’s all fine. As long as it’s not ‘Mione’, gods, I’ve always hated that nickname.”

Theo smirked at her and ran a hand through his hair. “I personally could never believe you actually allowed Weasley to call you that for so long.” Tiberius made a small noise in agreement but kept his mouth shut. It was clear to Hermione he was trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. 

“My parents have always called me ‘Mia’ as a term of endearment,” Hermione said softly, watching her pointer as she ghosted her fingertip around the rim of the teacup. She looked up at Tiberius. “Lord Nott, maybe you could call me Mia?”

Tiberius scoffed. “My dear, please don’t ever call me that again. We are family. You may call me Tiberius if referring to me as your uncle is too much. I won’t push. But to you, I am not Lord Nott any longer, okay?”

Hermione smiled and nodded her assent. “I know that there’s a lot of things we need to discuss, including the war,” she noticed both men shifted uncomfortably at this, “but I’m committed to putting the past behind us and starting fresh if you’re both amenable.”

Tiberius’ mouth tightened slightly as he nodded, diverting his eyes to the table in front of him while Theo agreed. It was obvious that it would take time to move past the war, but Hermione reminded herself again that she owed it to herself to give them a chance.

The brunette pushed her now empty plate away from her slightly, dabbing at her mouth with a cloth napkin. In an attempt to lessen the tension that had encapsulated the space, she shrugged. “Well, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, does this manor have a library?”

Theo laughed at that, eyes twinkling in amusement, as he discarded his napkin on the plate in front of him and stood up from his chair. “I should have known that would be the first thing you asked about. Let me take you on a tour, _cousin_.” Theo said teasingly, stopping next to her to offer his arm with a knowing smirk still on his face. 

The pair explored the manor together side by side. There were multiple sitting rooms, drawing rooms, beautiful gardens, a greenhouse, the largest kitchen Hermione had ever seen, and countless bedrooms. They passed through the west wing, which contained Tiberius’ bedroom, quickly. Theo also pointed out the two separate studies that belonged to his father and himself but did not open any of the doors in this wing. The message was clear that she was not to wander in this section, which she respected. She was almost certain she could find her way back to their wing on the opposite side of the house without issue. 

Hermione continued asking a million questions about the history, the architecture, the portraits that lined the walls, and eventually stories that painted the picture for her of what it would have been like for Theo to grow up here. Theo was more than happy to oblige with all of the answers she sought. 

“And then,” he struggled to get out in between laughs, “my father was so cross with me for breaking the window, I had to carry my grandfather’s portrait with me everywhere for an entire week.”

Hermione covered her mouth as she laughed, grabbing Theo’s forearm with her free hand. “You can’t be serious!” The two were sitting on the floor of the library, backs leaning against the couches across from the fireplace at the center of the back wall.

Around them, stacks of books Hermione selected littered the floor. They spent the past few hours after the tour in the library, which predictably she fell in love with immediately. Theo had sat back and let Hermione explore to her heart’s content, sipping on more tea Moppy brought them and reading through a novel. Hermione wandered between towering bookcases that were stuffed to the brim with all kinds of texts. The Nott family had always been bookish and took pride in collecting rare, valuable books. Hermione had found it difficult to select what she wanted to make her way through first; she was enamored with first editions of many books she poured through in the Hogwarts library as well as advanced charms texts and family biographies. Approximately twenty books were selected for her first batch and she was only stopped from grabbing more when Theo reminded her that this was her library too and it wasn’t going anywhere. 

When Tiberius was still occupied with the Ministry, the two had decided to take a light lunch in the library and continue trading stories of their upbringings. Theo and Hermione fell into such a natural, comfortable rhythm that neither of them had ever experienced before. While yes, she knew Theo since she was eleven years old, they had never been close by any means. House loyalties and blood purity squashed any chance of a friendship between them faster than either of them could hope for it to begin in the first place. Over the years, however, both of them developed an unspoken understanding and mutual respect due to how close in marks they both achieved and secretly relished when they were randomly placed together for assignments. Without ever speaking a word to each other, years passed where both of them sat at adjourning tables in the library nearly every day and completed their assignments together. It was a sense of consistency, Theo admitted to her earlier, that was comforting to him even though they never spoke of it. If it had been socially acceptable for either of them to interact the way they wished to at school, they both could have been amazingly close, which was a melancholic conclusion they reached in tandem on the floor of the library.

When the laughter subsided, Hermione looked thoughtfully at Theo beside her. “Hermione, we can’t think about what could have been. I’m just glad now that we can finally interact the way I wish we could have since first year. You and I are more similar than I ever thought. Please don’t be angry that I’m also immensely glad I never harbored any sort of feelings for you either, though, now that I know we’re related,” Theo chuckled and dodged the slap aimed for his bicep. 

“How did you even know what I was thinking? Prat.” Hermione giggled, laying her head back against the couch behind her. “Although, it is a relief that the feeling is mutual.”

Theo leaned back on the couch as well, turning his face to meet eye contact, and smirked at her. “The only reason you’re getting a pass for not mooning over me in school is that we’re family, I hope you know. You’ll have to make it up to me somehow,” he teased, stealing the charms book out of her lap and thumbing through the pages. “You know, you could get me the new Arithmancy text coming out this month and we can let bygones be bygones.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes and slapped his arm again, this time making contact with a loud _thwap_ , and snagged the book back out from his grasp. “I’ll think about, drama queen.” 

“Oh bollocks, is that the time?” Theo suddenly admonished, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Hermione. He hurried to his feet. “I gotta go meet Blaise, you know, you’re both going to get along so well once we let him in on the secret, I can already tell.” 

Hermione smiled at him, accepting his proffered hand that helped her to her feet as well. “I don’t know about that,” she murmured, looking down at her feet. Meeting his friends, the Slytherins that were always cruel to her gave her such terrible anxiety. Would things change between them once they learned the truth? And if they did, if they were so much more welcoming to her simply because she was actually a Pureblood, she would make them surely regret it, even if she wasn’t exactly sure how yet.

“I’ll see you later, Theo,” Hermione called after him as he stalked out the room.

“Try not to miss me too much, Mia,” he called out with a wink and disappeared around the corner. 

Hermione couldn’t help the smile that overtook her face at how naturally he said it, like they’d been best friends their whole life. The way could’ve been, if things went differently all those years ago. She returned the books she finished earlier by hand, allowing her thoughts to wander. As she tidied up the books she still kept at the small table near the couch, a throat cleared from behind her. She whipped around to face it, smiling softly when she saw Tiberius hesitating in the doorway. 

“Have you left this room yet today?” He asked with a chuckle, eying the books in her hands. 

“I am quite hungry, actually,” she blushed, looking down to her feet. “I was just about to find you to see if you were available to have dinner, if you’d like.”

“I would love that. Why don’t we go see what’s being served.” 

The two walked in silence to the dining room and Hermione willed her pounding heart to slow. Being with Theo was easy. Walking next to Tiberius, alone, was much harder. Her stomach was in knots at the thought of getting through an entire meal with him, but she knew it was important to get to know him without Theo leading the conversation. When they reached the dining room, Tiberius pulled her chair out for her and tucked her in before taking his own seat at the head. Soon after, fresh salad and soup had appeared on the table, and Hermione waited until Tiberius began eating before she even allowed herself to pick up a spoon. 

The silence was getting to her. As it dragged on and on, her stomach knotted further, and she was certain he could hear her heart as it raced in her ribcage. _Say something. Say anything. Don’t just sit here and let this uncomfortableness continue._ No matter how much she chastised herself, she had no idea what to say. 

“It is not a surprise to me that the library would be your favorite place. Theo spends most of his time in there as well, and it always reminded me of Richard. Whenever I couldn’t find your father when we were children, he was almost certainly hidden in between the bookshelves,” he chuckled. 

Hermione forced a smile on her face, carefully blowing on the contents of her spoon before she brought it to her lips. “My father engendered a love for books and knowledge in me since I could hold a book in my hands. I’ve always loved reading, it’s one of the only things that calms me down. Theo and I actually used to run into each other a lot in the Hogwarts library.” 

Tiberius nodded. “Yes, he’s mentioned that. You know, it should have been obvious to me. The first time I saw you, walking solitary at King’s Cross, I was taken aback by how much you looked like your father. I thought I was hallucinating in my grief. Losing my brother was my greatest heartbreak. I loved Theo’s mother, but she was ill for so long that when her time came I was thankful for the time we shared together and able to say goodbye properly. But Richard and I, we were inseparable up until his death, well, disappearance now I guess. You and Theo were so alike, the resemblance was there, and you fought each other for the best marks every year. You have the same birthday and even go by your middle name, for Merlin’s sake. I’ve only looked at the tapestry thousands of times. I should have seen it.”

“I don’t think anyone could have predicted this, Tiberius, least of all you. What reason would you have to believe that your brother and his family hadn’t actually perished in a fire two decades ago?” she said softly in response. 

A long silence passed between them.

“I just don’t know what I’ll do when I finally get to see him again,” he said so quietly she strained to hear him only a few feet away. “Do you think I could see him soon? How long have your parents been in the hospital?”

Hermione swallowed as guilt started creeping up her body, its tendrils wrapping slowly around her neck and squeezing. She already felt like she was struggling to breathe. She dropped the spoon with a clang into the bowl. “My obliviation spell was very strong. The healers have told me that the emotion I used as my intention to keep them safe during the war was so powerful that even if I had gotten them treatment soon after, it still would have taken months for any solid progress. They weren’t able to receive treatment for years. We’re still working on a lot of issues. Mother is struggling a lot more than Father for some reason, and I know he won’t leave her in Australia alone. I- I have no idea when my mother will be lucid long enough to even leave on a day trip.”

“I understand,” his voice was quiet, but his eyes showed such strong emotion it took her by surprise. “You did the right thing. Let’s just hope they start getting better soon, so we can all be reunited again soon, hm?”

Tiberius reached over and squeezed her hand before returning to his meal, and Hermione felt lighter. At this simple action, her guilt had sunk back down, its tendrils vanishing into smoke, and instead, she felt understood. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday!
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts, I'm curious to hear what you have to say. I think this has been the longest chapter so far, would you rather have more frequent shorter chapters or weekly chapters around this length? 
> 
> These past few chapters have been necessary for the plot but we're nearing the time where we get to dive into everything and I hope you're as excited as I am.

_ April 28, 2000 _

The next few weeks were easy. Hermione fell into a routine and became quite close with the Nott men. They started what Hermione dubbed “Pureblood Boot camp”, where they tried to throw as many lessons on culture and etiquette at her as possible. Boot camp took place immediately following breakfast every day. She spent most of her free time with Theo debating new theories, teaching him about Muggle culture, or reading in her favorite nook of the library. 

As the weather warmed, Hermione forced Tiberius to join her for daily walks. The more time she spent with her uncle, the more she began to care for the man. Hermione was determined to keep him healthy for the remainder of his sentence and Tiberius’ condition already started to improve by keeping him active. 

After dinner, Tiberius and Theo take turns telling Hermione stories about their family history, showing her pictures, and helping her study the family tapestry. One night, after all of the dessert had been eaten, Tiberius pulled out a small box instead of the usual photo albums. Theo smiled into his wine glass at Hermione’s surprise. 

“It’s not much, but Theo was able to take a quick trip to the family vault and find something that belongs to you.” 

Hermione smiled as she took the box and opened it to find a simple pendant on a gold chain. On the pendant were a sapphire- her birthstone- and the Nott crest with the words  _ sapientia potentia e _ _ st  _ inscribed. 

“Wisdom is power,” Hermione translated easily, and Tiberius smiled proudly, confirming it with a nod. 

“These were made for you when you both were born,” Tiberius explained as Theo showed her his own chain that was hiding underneath his shirt. “We got lucky you were born only a week apart.”

Hermione threw her arms around Tiberius and expressed her gratitude, not wasting a second to ask Theo to clasp it around her neck for her. When the chain was secured around her neck, Hermione examined the pendant, feeling tears start to build in her eyes.

* * *

After hours of reviewing floral arrangements and their meanings in the drawing room the next day, Tiberius turned them both loose and retired to his suite to rest before dinner. Hermione was frustrated she had been forced to talk about flowers for most of her day. 

“I mean, seriously, this is what I’ve been missing all my life? An excess of five hours of nothing but studying hidden floral meanings and the proper way to fold napkins? I feel like I’m losing brain cells,” she huffed, glowering at Theo. 

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but these are things that you’ll be expected to know once you run your own manor someday,” he rolled his eyes, “I used to dread these lessons, too, I get it. I’d much rather be picking your brain over the new Wizengamot ruling anyway.”

Hermione sighed, letting her shoulders slouch finally and kicking off her heels. “Well, that’s not happening anytime soon. Are you talking about the new Merpeople legislation? I was hoping to get my hands on an actual copy of the law; something tells me this is more about those greedy knobheads’ desire for scarab beetles than the protection of the Rostherne Mere Merpeople’s habitat.”

Theo grinned at her. “You’re the most opinionated witch I’ve ever met. How about we get takeout from that Italian place and I’ll grab the usual at Fortescue’s? We can watch another one of those Muggle movies you like so much when I get back. It’s been a long week.”

Hermione gave him a grateful smile. “That sounds lovely. I’ll go get comfy and get the film set up if you want to Floo over and grab it?” 

Theo had already moved to grab his cloak and crossed the hallway to the Floo room. “Already ahead of you. I’ll be back soon.” 

Hermione grabbed her heels from the ground and hurried upstairs, trading her formal dress for one of Theo’s Quidditch jerseys and a pair of black biker shorts. She hopped down the stairs, taking a few steps at a time, and soon found herself in the sitting room in their wing of the manor where Hermione’s television set had been set up. She was searching through the DVD cases to find something she thought Theo would enjoy. That wasn’t too difficult, however, because Theo seemed to like anything Hermione showed him. A soft smile graced her features as she thought back to the night she showed him how the telly worked and how amazed he had been by the Muggle technology. 

He enjoyed watching movies with her so much, he didn’t even complain like Harry or Ron would have when she wanted to watch nothing but romantic comedies the week prior when she had her period. Theo stayed actively engaged in whatever was on the screen and had even thought to procure her favorite strawberry ice cream. 

She was brought out of her thoughts by the familiar sound of the Floo activating a few rooms down. “Forget something?” She called out, not even bothering to turn around. 

Footsteps sounded down the hall and came to an abrupt stop outside the sitting room. “I know you can’t be back already, it took-” Hermione cut herself off as she turned to face the source of the steps. It was not Theo, as she was expecting, but Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini. Both were staring at her in the Slytherin equivalent of complete shock, so of course they looked perfectly poised and almost bored. 

“Granger, do you mind explaining to us what the bloody hell you’re doing in Theo’s sitting room wearing his Quidditch jersey from fifth year?” Blaise drawled, arching a brow at the telly and DVD cases surrounding her. 

“And maybe while you’re at it, why Theo has been entirely unreachable the past few weeks?” Daphne added, tossing a perfectly straightened lock of blonde over her shoulder. 

Hermione felt lightheaded. “Well, it was only a matter of time I suspect,” she sighed, gesturing for them to take a seat on the couch adjacent to the one sunk into. “We can wait in here until Theo comes back, it's best we tell you together.” 

Blaise and Daphne both exchanged curious glances before sitting next to each other where she had suggested without another word. 

“Tea?” Hermione offered, surprised at the lack of hexing or screaming that she felt should have been occurring. When they nodded, still keeping their silence, Hermione called Moppy to bring the nice herbal blend Theo had been obsessed with. 

“Will that be all Mistress?” Moppy asked, looking wide-eyed at her guests. Blaise and Daphne exchanged another look at this, which Hermione missed as she readied the cups. 

“Yes, Moppy, thank you.” 

After what felt like hours, Theo Floo’d back home with two bags of food in his arms. “Mia, are you already in the sitting room? Florean didn’t have any more strawberry but I grabbed mint chocolate chip. Moppy,” he called from the hallway outside the room, “Can you grab us two bowls and spoons?”

Theo stopped short as he entered the room and saw that Hermione was not alone.

“Pansy is going to have motherfucking kneazles,” Blaise whispered to Daphne, who blinked slowly in response to the scene unfolding in front of her eyes.

“Ready to tell us where the bloody fuck you’ve been these past few weeks, Theodore?” Blaise spat, crossing his arms across his chest and flying to his feet in anger. Daphne followed a few seconds later. “Your Floo’s been blocked for ages, you haven’t returned a single owl. Draco's been over to mine trying to figure out what he did to piss you off, and Pansy’s been more insufferable than usual due to your absence.”

“Imagine our surprise to find your Floo finally open and you and Hermione fucking Granger are playing house. What, got bored so you portkeyed yourself to Australia and came back with a wife?” Daphne scoffed, glaring at Hermione before focusing her attention back on Theo. 

Theo seemed to come back into himself and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s- look it’s not that simple. There’s been a lot on my plate-”

“I’ll say,” Blaise huffed with a roll of his eyes. 

“Look, mate, just sit down and we’ll explain everything. It just wasn’t something I could speak about yet.” Theo pleaded. 

Reluctantly, the Slytherins sat back down and Theo took his place next to Hermione, who was staring at the unopened bags placed on the table in front of them. Her stomach was growling and the food smelled amazing. She forced herself to focus on the conversation.

“Almost a month ago, we figured out that Hermione was actually my cousin,” Theo began, pausing to gauge their reactions. Blaise immediately rolled his eyes and made to stand up, but halted when Daphne extended a manicured hand and grabbed his forearm. 

“Did you figure that out before or after the wedding? I’m sorry, is this the Ancient and Noble House of Black?” she asked incredulously, looking suspiciously at the two of them. 

Hermione rolled her eyes at Theo, “Oh, we must have forgotten to put up that life-sized portrait of Walburga before our guests arrived. Where is Kreacher?” Theo furrowed his brow at her. 

Blaise seemed to tire of the current conversation. “Wait, so are you married, cousins, or married AND cousins?”

“Just cousins,” Hermione laughed. 

Daphne scoffed, “And how the hell did that happen?”

“Well, when two people love each other very much-”

“Piss off, Nott, and get to the point.”

“Why don’t we take this to my study? You’ve always been a visual learner, Zabini.”

The group of four entered Theo’s study and came to a stop where his name was listed on the family tapestry. Theo pointed at his name, traced the connection to his father, followed over to his brother Richard, and down the line to Amelia as he spoke.

“My dad has a brother named Richard, who up until recently was known to have perished in a fire with his wife and baby, Amelia. Turns out, Amelia  _ Hermione  _ Nott and her parents actually survived the incident. Her parents are ill, so there’s still a lot of the story we haven’t pieced together yet, but it’s true. Mia’s been living in the manor for almost a month while we try to teach her how to be a Pureblood and the family she came from all along.” 

“You’re serious,” Blaise asserted, still incredulous, but gazed at Hermione intently as if he were looking at a different witch altogether. 

“Very,” she confirmed, chancing a glance at Daphne who was gaping. “It’s been overwhelming, and no one outside of this manor right now even knows what’s going on.”   


“Potter and Weasley don’t even know yet?” Blaise gasped.

“As we said, we’ve been trying to keep this in the family while we figure out the particulars,” Hermione snapped. 

Blaise smirked, “I can’t believe I know something about you before Harry fucking Potter does, that’s all,” he sniggered.

Hermione rolled her eyes as Theo smirked and allowed himself to relax finally, satisfied that they were coming around to the news. The crisis appeared to be averted at present. 

Daphne had still yet to speak a word. “This must be terribly confusing for you, Hermione,” she spoke softly, frowning at the witch in front of her. “I’m so sorry,” Daphne said to both of them. 

Blaise snorted from next to her and nudged her arm with his own. “What do you have to be sorry for, Daph?”

Daphne frowned and shoved his arm. “Show some bloody sympathy Blaise, for Merlin’s sake! Her entire world just changed overnight and she’s trying to adjust! We just stormed in here to yell at Theo when all he’s done is help his family that he thought died two decades ago, you arsehole! He didn’t even trust us enough to come to us beforehand, we’re horrible friends!”

Blaise had the sense to look properly chastened and shifted uncomfortably. Hermione rushed to remedy the situation, feeling responsible for this conflict between Theo and his friends. 

“It wasn’t a matter of trust, truly,” she rushed out, pleading with Daphne. “It’s really all my fault, please don’t be cross with Theo. We have been talking about how to best have this conversation once things had settled down, you both just beat us to it. I’ve just been worried about how you will all take it, I know my friends aren’t going to take it well.” 

Daphne looked more distressed at this. “Hermione, please, don’t apologize. I’m sorry we stormed in here looking for answers,” she looked at Theo, “you just cut us out of the wards and weren’t answering anything in the post. We got worried. But you’ve had a lot on your plate, as you said.” 

“Well, I couldn’t risk one of you doing exactly what you just did. I know I’ve been a shite friend for not answering any letters but I didn’t know what to say to you all and I didn’t want to lie. I promise we were planning on telling you soon,” Theo stated. 

“I’m going to have to tell Harry and Ron I’m back in England,” Hermione murmured, frowning at Theo. “I can’t risk them finding out anything from anyone but me.” 

Theo nodded as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed gently. “Of course. I think we’ve kept our secret long enough anyway. Time to face the music.” Hermione smiled at this. 

Daphne and Blaise had twin expressions of confusion. At this, Theo laughed, “It’s a Muggle phrase, don’t worry about it. I know I’ve missed out on Snake Night the past few weeks, but perhaps we can host it here next week and tell Pans and Draco? I’ll need you two to help keep the peace.”

The blonde grinned at him. “Oh gods, I can’t wait to see how they take this. Granger’s a Sacred Twenty-Eight and joining the Snakes. Wait, not even just Sacred Twenty- Eight, but she’s basically French Pureblood royalty at the same time,” she exclaimed, tracing her mother’s last name on the tapestry. 

Blaise, “You’re a Grenier too? Bloody hell,” he shook his head. Hermione flushed at the attention. At this, Blaise smirked, “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, Granger,” he stopped himself. “Well, I guess we can’t be calling you that anymore, but only one Nott exists in my head and that’s not you, sorry sweetheart.”

“Hermione is fine,” she shrugged. “As long as it’s not ‘Mudblood’ I don’t give a shite what you call me.” Nearly everyone flinched at the word. 

“You won’t ever hear that word from us again, Hermione,” Blaise said solemnly. “None of us have even said it in years, besides, it doesn’t apply to you now anyway. Perhaps we could turn over a new leaf?” 

Hermione nodded in acknowledgment. “Theo’s said as such. I still won’t lie to you and say I’m excited to see Parkinson or Malfoy but I’m willing to try if you are.”

Daphne smiled, “Well, give it time and we’ll all come around. We haven’t had an outsider join us, well, ever, so exercise some of that Gryffindor courage and give us a shot. It’ll get easier, especially with everything happening in the next few months, we have bigger things to worry about.” 

“What’s happening in a few months?” Hermione questioned, tilting her head to the side. Theo shook his head almost imperceptibly at his friends, who widened their eyes slightly before continuing seamlessly. 

“I’ll promise to only make fun of your House a handful of times if you drink with us next week, Gr- Hermione,” Blaise corrected, flashing one of his charming smiles. “It wouldn’t hurt if Moppy made some of those chocolate biscuits, either.” 

Daphne smiled sweetly at the witch across from her as well. “Hermione, I know things haven’t always been the best between us, but I’ve never harbored any ill will. There are just some things two men can’t teach you about being a Pureblood witch, so if you want an ally in all of this I would be happy to help you in any way I can, as long as you don’t try to free my elves.”

Hermione giggled at that. “I would love that, Daphne. Don’t worry, Moppy’s actually taught me a lot about house elves and family bonds and I’m no longer knitting small hats for S.P.E.W.” 

Blaise looked more shocked at this than anything else that was said thus far. “I look forward to getting to know the  _ new  _ Hermione.” 

“We were just about to watch a film on the telly if you wanted to stay,” Hermione suggested, immensely pleased at how well this conversation had gone. 

Blaise and Daphne shook their heads in tandem, smiling at her gesture “No, I think we’ve intruded enough on your night,” Daphne sighed before she planted a friendly kiss on Theo’s cheek.

“Perhaps another time you could join us for a movie night, then,” Hermione said to both of them, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. 

Blaise clapped Theo on the shoulder. “Yeah, maybe, but we’ll definitely see you next week. We’ll keep your secret until then anyway. No more hiding,” he said with a wink. 

“Lock the Floo on the way out,” Theo called as they exited the room and Daphne turned to smile one last time at Hermione. 

After the roar of the fireplace quieted, Hermione and Theo took one look at each other before sighing and heading back to dig into their plates, relieved that at least some of Theo’s friends seemed supportive. 

* * *

On Sunday, Hermione stood in front of the floor-length mirror in her suite. As she fixed her hair and smoothed down her dress for the fiftieth time, Theo sighed from his spot on her bed where he hung upside down off the side. 

“Will you relax? It’s just dinner at the Burrow, you’ve been there a million times. They were so excited to get your owl. Aren’t you excited to see Potter and Weasley?”

Hermione grimaced at him in the mirror. “Of course I am, I just have no idea how they’re going to take this!” She touched up her hair charm again which smoothed and relaxed her curls. She readjusted her pendant so it laid over her dress. She was nervous, very nervous in fact, and that was causing her to fidget and obsess. 

Theo sat up straight. “Mia, they’re your best friends and from everything you’ve told me about the Weasleys, it seems like they consider you to be family. It will be an adjustment, sure, but it shouldn’t change anything.” 

Hermione frowned and debated changing her dress again. Was it too much? It’s not like she’s showing up in robes, she just picked one of the dresses she wore around the manor. No, she wouldn’t change, she had to leave soon anyway. “I just don’t want them to treat me any different. It’s been easier to push this off because I didn’t have to worry about everything changing.”

Theo shifted uncomfortably and remained silent, staring at the edge of the rug near her feet. When he didn’t respond, her frown deepened and she turned to face him, coming to a stop before him. “Theo?” 

Theo avoided her eyes by looking out her window as he said, “Yeah, I get it, I guess I wouldn’t want to be tied into a family associated with the dark side either if I was in your position. Being ashamed of us will probably win you sympathy points with them, at least.” 

Hermione blinked, feeling a heavy weight settle in her stomach. “I’m not ashamed of you,” she said gently, coming to sit next to him on her bed. “We’ve been over this Theo, I’m quite proud to be a Nott. I have forgiven you both and I understand that you were in an impossible situation during the war, and you are my family. I haven’t been hiding you away because I’m ashamed. It's not like a negative reaction would suddenly make me want to estrange myself from you. I’m just anxious because they’ll be upset that I kept this from them and I don’t know if it will change our dynamic. It sounds so stupid, but I’ve always been Harry and Ron’s Muggle-born best friend. Part of my identity is gone, and I don’t want them to feel like I’m not the same girl they grew up with, I guess.” 

Theo sighed and threw an arm over her shoulder and waited until her head dropped to his shoulder before continuing. “It’s going to go fine, I promise. If I didn’t think it would make the situation worse, I would come with you. As it stands, She-Weasel would probably hex me on the spot,” he chuckled and relaxed when this seemed to bring a giggle out of Hermione. 

“I wish you could come too, and I do want them to get to know you better if all goes well, but you’re right. This part I should do on my own.” She sighed as she realized it was time to go and gave Theo a crushing hug before standing up and slipping on her heels. “Wish me luck,” she said. 

"Luck is not chance- It’s toil- fortune’s expensive smile is earned, and I think you've done enough for those twats to earn some," Theo remarked, shooting her a smirk. 

Hermione beamed at him. “Dickinson, right?”

Theo winked. “I’ll be waiting for you when you come home. Just come to my room. I want to hear about how it goes as soon as you get back." 

Hermione spun on her heel, apparating outside the Burrow. It looked the same as it always did, and for some reason, this settled her nerves. She took one last deep breath before knocking on the door. 

“Hermione!” A flash of red hair flew into her, knocking the air out of her lungs as she was thrown back a step. The arms wrapped around her waist were the only thing keeping her standing. 

“Hi, Ginny." 

“Oh, I’ve missed you!” Ginny mumbled into her shoulder before releasing her and beckoning her inside. 

“I’ve missed you all so much. Hello Molly,” Hermione greeted, stopping for another hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

“Hermione, dearest, it’s lovely to see you!” Molly exclaimed, not quite ready to let her go yet. “Why didn’t you just use the Floo? The boys have been pacing by it for the past twenty minutes,” she chuckled.

Hermione gave a tight smile. “Where I’m staying doesn’t have access, so I just thought I would apparate over.”

Molly and Ginny both looked as though they were about to ask for my clarification, but luckily for Hermione, she was suddenly crushed in another embrace.

“Mione, it’s been too long,” Harry said into her hair as he and Ron rushed to wrap their arms around her. 

“Way too long,” Ron agreed. 

Hermione grinned, allowing herself to relax in the arms of her best friends at last. “I’ve missed my boys.”

After a minute, both of them released her to get a good look at her. “Wow, Mione, why are you so dressed up? Did you just come from the Ministry or something?” Ron asked, eyes lingering at the heels on her feet. 

A nervous giggle bubbled past her lips. “Oh, no, I just dress like this now.” 

“Come on, dears, dinner is ready, everyone take a seat at the table,” Molly called, levitating bowls of food in front of her as she headed towards the table. 

Hermoine sat with Ron and Harry on either side of her. She was directly across from Ginny, who was sandwiched in between George and Percy. Bill and Charlie were both out of the country, so they were excused from the weekly dinner the Weasley family had at the Burrow. Molly and Arthur sat at opposite ends of the table. 

As everyone dug in, the conversation drifted from the comings and goings in London, George’s success at the joke shop, Arthur’s newest Muggle obsession, Percy’s upcoming fatherhood with his wife Audrey, Ginny’s new training schedule with the Holyhead Harpies, and Harry and Ron’s newest cases at the Auror’s office. When the dessert came around, it was Hermione’s time to talk. 

She was reluctant to update them on the lack of progress with her parents because of the regular looks of disappointment and concern for her that accompanied every other conversation that involved her parents. Harry squeezed her hand when she reported their conditions as relatively unchanged and Hermione sucked in a deep breath before forcing herself to segue into the whole point of her coming here. 

“There was one breakthrough when I was with them last, however. It’s just taken me a little bit of time to process and come to terms with everything before I could even think about telling you all.”

At the expectant looks urging her to continue, Hermione stared at Ginny across the table who gave her an encouraging soft smile. Hermione held her gaze as she began her explanation, barely looking at anyone else due to her nerves. When she had finished explaining her circumstances and how she had spent the past month, she felt relieved to finally get the secret out. 

That was until she realized how quiet the Weasley home had become. So silent, in fact, that Hermione stopped breathing as she became hyper-aware of how loud it sounded to her ears. Around the table were expressions of varying levels of surprise. Harry was staring down at his plate, his hands lying limp in his lap. 

“I thought I recognized that crest on your necklace,” Percy mumbled almost to himself.

Ginny smirked at Hermione. “I’m sure the Nott blood in you contributed to your hat stall at the sorting. Was the hat trying to talk you into Slytherin?” 

Ron shifted next to her, “Well, surely not, Mione is a Gryffindor through and through.” 

Hermione smiled gratefully at Ginny, who beamed back at her. The sight eased some of the tension in her body. “Actually, yes, the hat couldn’t decide between everything except Hufflepuff, but the decision came down between Gryffindor and Slytherin in the end,” she laughed. 

Ron stood and began clearing the table with George, who appeared amused. Ron scoffed and raised his voice as he entered the kitchen, “As if you could be put with the snakes. All of those heartless bellends, I don’t like even thinking about it. Ginny, have you enlarged your bed for Hermione yet?”

Hermione bristled. “Ronald, I know there’s a lot of history with the Slytherins, but I don’t appreciate the insinuation you’re making about Theo. And what makes you think I’m staying here? I live in the manor now. ”

Ron grimaced as he came back to the room. Ginny slouched in her chair in anticipation of his retaliation. “You can’t seriously be defending him right now. His friends made our lives miserable at Hogwarts! His father, your uncle,” he spat, “is a Death Eater.” 

“Ron!” exclaimed Ginny 

“Did you just tune out everything I said about how amazing they’ve been and how we’ve talked at length about the war and overcome everything? They’re my family, and I understand this is a lot to take in but I’m not going to sit here and listen to you talk about them like that. Theo and I have become very close, and I’m becoming reacquainted with his friends next week. If you’re my best friend, you’re going to have to come to terms with that,” she stood rather abruptly from the table. 

“Hermione,” Harry grabbed her wrist. “It is just a lot to take in. You’ve had weeks to sit with this information, and to be honest, it hurts that you didn’t feel like you could come to us about this,” he paused to clear the emotion out of his throat. “I wish you would stay here or with me at Grimmauld but it is your decision obviously. You’re just our family too.” 

Harry came to his feet as she started to tear up and wrapped his arms around her small frame. Hermione sunk into his embrace and let some tears fall. “Harry, it’s been so hard. I was terrified this would change things between all of us. I should have told you sooner, it’s just been so crazy.” 

Ron rubbed small circles on her back, looking disappointed with himself for drawing this reaction out of her. “Of course it won’t, I’m sorry, Mione. It’s just going to be an adjustment, but we love you and we’re not going anywhere.” 

Hermione felt rather than saw Harry nod in agreement. “We’re right here. We’re just going to have to learn how to share with Nott and the others.” 

Ginny voiced, “Although I am rather put out about how much better you already seem to be doing at this Pureblood witch comportment thing than me,” which earned a laugh from everyone around the room. “I mean, seriously, I don’t think you slouched once the entire meal. The makeup and hair charms look amazing. Plus, you wear heels now? Regularly? So much to unpack here.” 

“Well, dearest, you do have another year before any of that matters anyway,” Molly called, busying herself with the teacup in front of her. 

Ron stiffened at this realization, which only got worse once he saw the furrow in Hermione's brow, signifying her confusion. “Hermione, have the Notts told you about what’s happening this summer?” 

Molly sighed in exasperation when she shook her head. Harry looked from Ron to Molly to Arthur, and back to Hermione. “What’s this summer?” he inquired. 

“No one will tell me.” 

“It’s not our place to tell you, dearest,” Molly sighed again. “I have half the mind to visit old Tiberius. Just promise you’ll ask them about it when you can.”   


Hermione gave an uncertain nod before breaking apart from the boys. Harry had begun to say his goodbyes, citing an early morning in the department, and Hermione went to thank Molly for the meal. 

“Are you sure you can’t tell me anything?” she whispered, a pleading look on her face. 

Molly looked pained to shake her head and glanced at someone over Hermione’s shoulder. “I really wish I could. Things will make more sense when they explain, and then I can answer any questions you may have. But right now, I’m quite  _ incapable _ ,” she emphasized, which only confused Hermione more. 

Resigned, Hermione thanked her and moved on to bid Ginny farewell. The girl enveloped her in another tight hug and kissed her cheek, stating she’d be expecting an invitation along with the boys to see her new place and suggested they meet for tea in the upcoming week.

After she was released by Ginny and had finished up with Percy and George, she finally made her way to Arthur who was modifying the Floo to accept travel to and from Nott Manor. “Have you opened it on your side?”

“Yes, I did so before I came here.”

“Good, then no more need to apparate my darling,” he chuckled and brought her into a hug. “I’m proud of you, for how you’ve taken all of this in stride.” 

Hermione smiled in thanks, feeling his kind words wash over her and warm her from the inside out. She waited for Harry and Ron to join her side once more. “We’ll get through this,” she said to them, reaching out both of her arms and smiling once again when they nestled into her side to embrace once again. 

“We’ve certainly overcome worse,” Harry mumbled into her hair. 


	5. Chapter 5

_Friday,_ _May 5, 2000_

Hermione was fuming. She had so much frustration building in her body that her fingertips started tingling with barely-corralled magic. All week she had been trying to figure out how to get information out of Tiberius and Theo. 

She, begrudgingly, had to respect Tiberius for his ability to disappear even as a man on house arrest. He informed her at breakfast Monday that she would have the week off from her lessons due to a “matter that required his attention”. He did not show for any meals, he did not join her for their daily walks, and no matter how much she wandered she did not run into him. 

By Wednesday, she had taken to loitering in his wing, hoping to corner him on the way to a loo from wherever he must be holed up. She had even tried to visit his study but found it warded and silent. This was beginning to get ridiculous. What could he possibly be doing? Why did he suddenly have to become so busy when she wanted answers from him? Was he even here? How far could a wandless Death Eater on house arrest get anyway?

Hermione was also a little stir crazy due to Theo’s absence from the manor. He’d been out of the country on estate business for the past few days and Hermione was going a little insane having to fend off her questions- to which she had no answers- by herself. She was relieved when she’d been invited to lunch with Harry and Ron on Wednesday and they asked her to spend the rest of the week at Grimmauld Place. 

Thursday, when the boys went to work, Hermione took the opportunity to raid the Black library. She was hoping for a breakthrough of some sort but found nothing that could explain this vague summertime event. Not even the most advanced literary-searching spells had turned up any good results. 

Kreacher’s sudden change in disposition towards her had been startling now that she had been officially claimed as a Nott. When he first saw her, he fell to his knees and begged her forgiveness for over thirty minutes before she could convince him that all had been forgotten. He’d spent the rest of the day waiting on her hand and foot, leaving her with an excess of tea and treats surrounding her in the library. 

She spent the night catching up and reminiscing with Harry and Ron over a meal and a pint of Butterbeer at the Leaky Cauldron. She returned to the manor early Friday morning once the two of them had Floo’d to the Ministry and was disappointed to find the manor empty yet again. Seeing her friends had definitely helped, but this nagging feeling that she was missing out on something huge was weighing heavily on her mind. 

By the time Theo walked through the Floo on Friday afternoon, Hermione was ready to scream. When his green eyes fell on her resting on the chaise, he shot her a tired smile and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, slumping slightly and letting her body support him. 

“Hi, Mia, I’m so glad this week is over," he sighed.

“Sit, Theodore.”

At the no-nonsense tone in her voice, he moved to sit next to her, furrowing his brows at her in confusion. “Look, I know I’ve been gone for a few days and all but I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad. Did you run into any problems? You could have owled or Floo called me,” he said worriedly. 

“I think it’s time you tell me what this big secret is.”

Theo shifted and chuckled, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Okay, you got me, I stole the DVD for _Karate Kid_ when I was gone, you know-”

“Theo, you know I don’t care about that,” Hermione sighed in exasperation. “There’s something you and your father haven’t told me yet. You dodged this question when I asked you on Sunday after dinner at the Burrow and I keep hearing hints about something happening this summer. If it affects me, I should be told about it, don’t you agree?” 

Theo sighed and rubbed the nape of his neck. “It’s not that I wanted to keep it from you, this has all just been so much to process and I didn’t want you to get too overwhelmed. It’s… a lot. Much more than you’re anticipating. And I know you’re going to have a million questions about everything, so I guess I’ve been preparing myself as well. Father didn’t try to at least start explaining when I was gone?”

Hermione laughed bitterly. “I’m certain he’s been avoiding me all week so he didn’t have to deal with my _innumerable_ questions.” 

“Mia, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated that so many people seem to know what’s going on but no one will tell me,” Hermione mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of her dress instead of meeting his eyes. 

Theo was quiet for a while, staring at the wall across from them. “I will tell you, I promise, I just don’t think right now is the best time to get fully into it. My friends are coming over in a few hours for Snake Night, remember? That’s enough stress for you on its own and we need to get stuff set up.”

Hermione huffed, crossing her arms petulantly in front of her. 

“I promise,” Theo said again, “After tonight is over, you and I will sit down with Father and we’ll discuss all of this tomorrow. My father and I were busy settling our affairs this week and it just hasn’t been the right time, but we will talk about this, okay?”

Hermione sighed again but nodded, lifting herself from the chaise. “Alright, let’s get this night over with, then."

* * *

Daphne was the first to arrive, carrying a bottle of red wine and a tin of biscuits. She greeted Theo with a quick peck to his cheek and hesitated in front of Hermione before greeting her in the same manner. “You look great, Hermione.”

Hermione grinned in thanks and returned the compliment, following them both into their sitting room. Hermione and Daphne had just sat at the round table in the corner with their freshly-poured wine glasses when the Floo activated again in the next room. 

Heels clicked down the hallway at such a distinct pace that Hermione froze, thinking back to the many encounters she had at Hogwarts with Pansy Parkinson, and none of them pleasant. Suddenly she felt bushy-haired and buck-toothed again as she waited for the girl who teased her mercilessly to enter the room. She was so distracted by the sound of her heels she almost missed the flash of platinum blond hair that followed her. 

“Oh, so the rumors _are_ true. Draco, you owe me ten galleons.” 

Theo shot Daphne a confused look, asking a silent question, who shrugged in response. “What are you talking about, Pans?”

“It’s okay, Theodore, I’ll forgive this deception one day,” Pansy clipped, falling into the seat next to Daphne and pouring herself a glass of wine. 

Draco followed silently and took his seat next to Pansy, his jaw clenched and his fist gripping a bottle of Firewhiskey. Theo looked uncomfortably at the two of them before coming to the seat next to Hermione. Even though they weren’t looking at her, Hermione suddenly felt very unwelcome by their cold and icy presence. A tense silence fell over the room as everyone waited for the last of their party to join. 

“Are we all a big happy family now, then?” Blaise called as he entered the room, taking the last seat between Theo and Draco. 

“Not quite, mate,” Draco gritted, taking a swig of his Firewhiskey and shooting Theo a pointed look. 

“You knew too?” Pansy scoffed, looking betrayed at Blaise. 

“I think the better question is how did _you_ know?” Daphne intoned. 

“What don’t I know?” Pansy laughed. “I have my sources.”

“Would someone mind catching me up to speed on whatever I’m clearly missing here?” Draco droned, looking entirely bored as he slumped back in his chair, eying Hermione warily. 

“Well, a little snidget told me that Granger here is actually Theo’s long-lost and totally not dead cousin. She’s been staying in the manor for the past few weeks, which is why Theo has been such a shite friend lately,” Pansy quipped, taking a generous sip of her wine. 

“Oi!,” Theo exclaimed, “I can just take back that perfume I just got you from Paris since I’m so horrible.” 

Hermione stared down at Draco who was sitting directly across from her at the table and tried to gauge his reaction to her presence unsuccessfully. His face was impassive, all sharp angles. He'd grown and changed a lot since she'd seen him last. His hair was still almost blindingly blond, but the way he wore it suit him. Short on the sides, long on top, with small pieces falling across his forehead. Her eyes drifted down past his sharp jawline to his broad shoulders hidden under his button-up. 

Blaise rolled his eyes, leaned on the back legs of his chair, and planted his feet up on the table. “Can we get over this and start our night? It’s been ages since we’ve all hung out together.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at Theo, who was waiting expectantly for some sort of reaction. After a few more tense minutes, Draco took another gulp of whiskey and slammed the empty tumbler onto the table. “We just spent the past 4 days in France together and you didn’t think to mention this to me? I’m really the last one finding this out?” He said in a low voice. 

“Pans, Draco, why don’t you two join me in my study for a minute?” Theo demanded, pushing back from the table before squeezing Hermione on the shoulder and leaving without pausing to make sure they were following him. 

Once they were alone, Blaise looked between the two witches still at the table with him and smirked. “Well, that wasn’t horrible.”

“Are they really going to pretend that I’m not here all night?” Hermione fidgeted with the stem of her glass. 

Daphne rolled her eyes, "That really had nothing to do with you. They’re more bothered that Theo didn’t tell them than they are about you being here.” 

“We agreed not to tell anyone, though.”

“Theo, Draco, and Pansy never keep anything from each other. They’ve all been inseparable since they were in nappies. The last time they kept a secret from each other was sixth year, and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how that worked out for them,” Blaise shot her a look that warned her to drop the subject. 

Realizing that the conversation was over, Hermione grimaced and took another heavy gulp of the wine in her hands. 

Daphne smiled and nudged her with her elbow. “So, Hermione, what is this ‘telly’ I hear you have?”

By the time Theo came back with a noticeably calmer Pansy and Draco, Hermione had migrated to the couch and was situated in between Blaise and Daphne. They were so enraptured by the technology that they had barely looked away from it since the film began.

“Are you serious?” Theo groaned as he vaulted himself over the back of the couch, slouching next to Daphne, “I can’t believe you started _Jumanji_ without me!”

Four heads swiveled in his direction in perfect synchronization and looked quizzically at him. 

“What is a Jumanji?” Draco asked as he came to a stop behind them, wordlessly summoning and refilling his tumbler from the table. 

“I’m definitely not drunk enough for this,” Pansy mumbled before snatching the tumbler out of his hands and downing it in one gulp. 

As the night went on and the drinks kept flowing, everyone seemed to relax. At Daphne's prodding, Hermione had to explain concepts like electricity, how she got Muggle technology to work in the presence of magic, and the basic components of a film. Even Draco seemed interested by this and tried to appear as though he wasn't paying attention to her answers as he sipped steadily from his tumbler and whispered to Pansy, who was completely ignoring him in favor of listening to Hermione. Like Theo had predicted, she and Blaise were fast friends and had been spending most of the night together. 

"It's interesting to see how Muggles perceive magic honestly," Pansy said to Hermione, crossing an elegant leg over the other. Hermione subconsciously sat a little straighter as her eyes followed the movement. "Like, that guy was transfigured into a weird half-monkey hybrid. I wonder how they try to explain other aspects of magic."

"It varies, depending on the theory and the universe the film or novel is set in. It is pretty interesting," Hermione let herself get a little excited, pleased that Pansy seemed earnest in her attention. "I would be happy to show you other ideas the Muggle world has popularized over the years. You might enjoy their depictions of Merpeople." 

"Oh yes!" Daphne exclaimed, "Girl's night! Sometime soon!"

After the film ended, and they all picked at the snacks Moppy provided for them, they all returned to their seats at the round table and Blaise procured a pack of cards. 

“Hey Grang- Golden Girl,” Pansy winced as she stacked a card from her hand onto the table, “I see you finally learned how to dress yourself, when did that happen? That looks like something I would have in my closet.”

“Moppy has good taste,” Hermione shrugged and flipped over a card before adding it to her hand. 

Draco scoffed, “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to set it free yet.”

Hermione bristled and snapped her head up. “ _She_ has a name and for your information, I’ve come to truly appreciate the relationship between Pureblood families and their house elves.”

“You don’t understand shite,” Draco laughed at her, a cruel glint in his eyes. 

“Draco,” Daphne warned.

Hermione felt her cheeks warm as she stared him down, abandoning the cards in her hands on the table. “I still have a lot to learn, but I’m trying to learn as much as I can about Pureblood culture.”

“Well, Granger, if you’re suddenly so well versed on Pureblood culture, what are your thoughts on the Solstice?” Draco addressed her with a mischievous smirk. 

Theo groaned and slumped in his chair, avoiding Hermione’s eyes at all costs as she glared in his direction.

“I’m not even going to try to mediate this,” Blaise commented, though he looked like he was three seconds away from summoning a bowl of popcorn to watch the interaction play out. 

Daphne nodded in agreement, “I’m not getting involved either.” 

Pansy laughed and actually summoned a bowl of popcorn from the kitchen. “Oh yes, PLEASE enlighten us, Princess.”

“What are you talking about, Malfoy?” Hermione spat before turning to Theo. “What is he talking about?”  
  
Draco raised his eyebrow in amusement and leaned forward in his chair. “What’s this? Something Hermione Granger doesn’t know? Someone owl Rita Skeeter.” 

Hermione glared at him, ignoring Pansy’s laughter and Blaise leaning across the table to steal a handful of popcorn. “Shut up, Malfoy, I’m not talking to you.” 

Draco smirked at her and she became even more enraged when she realized he seemed to be enjoying this. Enjoying riling her up. Daphne slowly popped a few kernels in her mouth as she watched them. 

Theo grimaced from her side, “This really isn’t how I thought this conversation would go.”

“Well, get on with it,” Pansy called and held the bowl out to Blaise without taking her eyes off Hermione. 

“I thought you were the expert, Granger,” Draco shook his head disapprovingly, his infuriating smirk still on display. “I expected more from a swot like you.”

Hermione gripped her wine glass tight enough her knuckles began turning white. “Well maybe if Theo had given me a book-”

Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Are you dense enough to believe this would be written down? There are things you can’t learn from a book.”

Theo tried to grab her attention. “Mia, look-”

“How can you expect me to know everything Pureblood if there are unwritten rules? I just found out about all of this a month ago. I’m _trying_ to-”

“Yeah, trying to catch up, I get it. This right here is a massive fucking hole in your education. Do you even know when the summer solstice is?” His eyes were boring holes into her own, and she felt unsettled even in her own skin.

“Of course I do,” she rolled her eyes, “It’s on June 20th this year.” 

“Ten points to Gryffindor,” Pansy called in an imitation of their deceased Headmaster.

“Can anyone tell me why the Summer Solstice is important for us Purebloods?” Draco inquired, his voice suddenly taking a deep, cold, monotone that rivaled Snape’s. Blaise laughed as he kicked his heels up on the table, nudging Pansy with his arm as they observed. 

“Oh, oh, pick me!” Pansy threw her hand up and bounced in her seat, a clear imitation of a certain swot. 

“Miss Parkinson.”

“Sacred Twenty Eight families have been celebrating Litha since magic was bestowed upon the people from Morgana herself. Morgana, who was then tasked with the protection of King Arthur, could no longer uphold her end of the bargain with the land that her magic was dependent on. She came to the most powerful families in England and asked them to enter into a covenant, and so she passed the responsibility onto them.”

“Very good,” Draco grinned at her and looked back to Hermione, who was rolling her eyes. 

“That just sounds like a nice bedtime story for Pureblood children to make them feel important.”

Draco’s gaze hardened. “It’s not a story, you stupid bint. It’s our history. _Your_ history now.”

“It’s not a story, Mia,” Theo chimed in from her side. “Every year, all of the Sacred Twenty Eight families gather for Litha and uphold the covenant with the land. This is a tradition our families have kept since that very first time. Even during times of war, we have never once missed a year.” 

Hermione looked around the table with uncertainty and was met with equal expressions of conviction. She felt completely sober now, all of those glasses she downed might as well have been water. It appeared as though the same thought was occurring to everyone else as well. She faced Theo again to ask, “What does this tradition entail?”

He hesitated. “It’s... complicated. There are a lot of different parts.”

Hermione looked across the table at the blond who was twisting his tumbler and staring at her intently. “So you’re telling me Morgana Le Fay handpicked these families and gave them the ability to do magic? And this super-secret and complicated tradition has been occurring yearly for all this time without anyone else finding out?”

“No one else can know. The entire ritual is kept in complete secrecy for a reason,” Blaise answered. “It would be incredibly dangerous for the general population to find out what influence we have over magic. Every member of a sacred family could be even more of a potential target than we already are. Besides, it’s under a gag charm. It can’t even be spoken about in the presence of wizards that aren’t in the Sacred Twenty Eight.” 

Hermione stilled. Molly hadn’t been avoiding the subject. Molly had said she was “incapable” of discussing it with Hermione, not that she wouldn’t. She physically couldn’t have explained it to her because Harry was there. _Oh._ Her father had said something similar about how Theo and Tiberius were the only people he knew that could explain it to her. 

“And, and what?” Her mind was whirring, the cogs turning at unprecedented speed. “You all have to do this ritual or we lose our magic?”

“Basically,” Daphne shrugged. “Wizarding England is entirely dependent on us. There are other important rituals we perform throughout the year for more minor things, but Litha grounds the lifeforce of our magic. Without the covenant, our magic would cease to exist. The land only holds up its side of the agreement if we do as well. Not to mention, as wizards started expanding over the centuries, we’re also responsible for most of Europe’s magic.”

“That’s… a huge responsibility,” Hermione responded meekly. 

“You have no idea what we sacrifice,” Pansy snipped, but all traces of malice were gone from her tone. “You’ve spent most of your life thinking all we do is take waltzing lessons and sneer at Muggleborns? You don’t know anything about us.”

“Tell me, what does it entail?” Hermione looked at her earnestly and Pansy seemed momentarily taken aback by her sincerity. 

“I don’t know if you’re ready for that,” a low drone drew her attention back to Malfoy. Hermione felt her aggravation build up yet again. 

“I don’t think that’s your decision, is it?”

“It’s not exactly light magic, Granger.” 

“It’s not Granger anymore, Malfoy!” She snapped. “I want to know about the bloody ritual I take I’m expected to participate in!”

“You’ll always be Granger to me,” he chuckled, his eyes flashing with something inscrutable before shifting back to a look of indifference. 

Before Hermione could respond, Theo interfered. “It will be all of our first years taking part, actually, if that makes you feel any better.” This successfully drew her attention back to him and away from the absolutely infuriating blond. 

Daphne added, “We’ve all been attending the Litha celebrations since we were born, but we get to sacrifice and consecrate this year since we will all be twenty at the time of the solstice. There’s a lot of celebration we weren’t allowed to witness since we were too young. This is the first year we’ll get the whole experience.” 

“Sacrifice? Consecrate? W- what are you talking about?”

“Please let me explain that to you tomorrow. It’s not the time for that conversation,” Theo pleaded and was relieved to find Hermione’s nod of acceptance. Blaise took this as a suggestion to start the card game back up. He collected the abandoned cards and shuffled the deck before starting to hand them out to each person again. 

A chuckle sounded from across the table. “You alright? You’re looking a little pale over there.”

“That’s rich, coming from you, ferret. I’m surprised you don’t spontaneously combust into ashes whenever you step foot into the sunlight,” she quipped without a second thought. 

The corner of his mouth quirked up as he rearranged his cards, eying her over the fan he created. “Everything about me is rich, Granger, I’m the heir to the wealthiest family in all of Europe. Do try to keep up.” 

“It’s a shame; all of those galleons you couldn’t buy yourself a better personality,” she huffed, trying to take a deep breath and calm down. Blaise and Daphne shared amused expressions at her comment while Pansy examined her nails with a small smirk and Theo chuckled. If she'd looked over, she would have seen the mirth on his face. Instead, she glared at the table in front of her.

“Now now, this attitude of yours isn’t very ladylike. A young Pureblood woman should have better, poised comportment.” 

He really couldn’t let it rest, could he? It was the first time his friends were all in one place in weeks and he didn’t seem to want to do anything besides antagonize her. Here she was, trying to start over, and he was doing exactly what he did best: bring out the worst in her. All of the anxious energy, the frustration, the confusion, everything she'd felt over the past few weeks was building and setting a fire within her that was growing every time he opened his mouth. That's it. 

“Excuse me for not being the Pureblood witch you expected,” she dropped the glamour on her forearm with a wave of her hand and thrust it in his direction. “Having ‘Mudblood’ carved into my arm and fighting a whole arse war changes a person.” 

The blood drained out of Draco’s face as he observed the crude lettering, puffy and inflamed even after all of these years. Silence blanketed the room as everyone else saw her scar. Hermione heard her heartbeat in her ears. What was she doing?

She quickly looked around the table, and for some reason, their shocked, aghast expressions only ignited her anger further. Draco’s eyes still hadn’t moved from her arm when she looked at him once more. He looked like he was going to be sick, which gave her enough encouragement to keep pushing. 

“What, Malfoy, you didn’t tell your friends about the last time I visited your place? I wonder if my blood still stains your drawing-room floor.” The words ripped out of her throat in a snarl and she felt lighter. All of the confusion and frustration of the past few months were bubbling to the surface, and as she spat at Malfoy she felt liberated. 

Wordlessly, Draco finally pulled his eyes from her arm and came to his feet, a shaky hand coming to his mouth before he stormed out of the room. Theo looked helplessly at Hermione before rushing after him, and when no one spoke, Hermione felt as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head. 

She quickly replaced her glamour and pulled her arm into her lap. No one spoke for many long minutes.

“Why did you have to do that? Just go ahead and ruin it?” Pansy asked quietly but her anger was palpable. “Could you even tell he was trying with you? He was just teasing you, you stupid bint.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Hermione scoffed and looked at Daphne. “He was doing what he always does. He tries to bait me. I’ve never let him push me around and I’m not going to start it now just because I live with his best mate.” 

Daphne shook her head. "I get the two of you have a complicated past, but for this to work you're both going to have to put in effort."

Chastened, Hermione shifted in her seat before meeting Blaise’s eyes. “They’re right. You need to do better than that. You can't be so quick to jump on him like that.” 

Her lips parted. "Are you seriously blaming me for this? He didn't have to goad me on like that either-"

"You _both_ need to do better. If not for the sake of maturity, or new friendships, at least do it for Theo. Making this hard on him won't do you any good."

At once, all three of the remaining guests shared a look and stood. “Please tell Theo we’ll see him soon. I think the night’s over,” Pansy muttered, not bothering to wait for a response before her heels clicked to the Floo, Blaise followed shortly after with a nod to Hermione in goodbye. 

Daphne hesitated and crossed the distance to Hermione, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You just need to give him a chance. Give us all a chance. We’re not the same people you think you went to school with. I’ll owl you later next week to meet up, there are things we need to get you for the Solstice, now that you know.”

“I’m sorry for ruining everyone’s night.”

Daphne shook her head. “You didn’t ruin the night. These things blow over. I’ll see you soon.”

“Goodnight, Daphne.”

Guilt started pooling in Hermione's stomach and she suddenly had the strange urge to seek Malfoy out and apologize. If she were being honest with herself, she knew her reaction had been inappropriate. Of course, she didn't want to make Theo's life difficult either. She decided that she would wait for them to come back and try to smooth things over, but when an hour had passed, Hermione gave up and head up to bed, determined to talk to Theo in the morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I just wanted to thank everyone for the awesome feedback I've been getting and drop a link to my TikTok if any of you wanted to reach out on that platform! I just started posting fanfic recs and such but I would love to get to know some of you more personally! 
> 
> https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeYNjF1e/
> 
> Either way, I'll see you all next Tuesday for some more info about this Midsummer event!


	6. Chapter 6

_ Saturday, May 6, 2000 _

The morning came and went without a single sign of Theo. At first, Hermione didn’t mind much, figuring Theo still needed some space to deal with whatever was going on. But when the sun began to set and he was still nowhere to be found, she started worrying. It wasn’t like him to just up and disappear without warning. 

She was surprised to find Tiberius at the dinner table, in his rightful spot at the head, when she made her way down soon after. 

“Tiberius,” she greeted, taking her seat next to him and eying the empty seat across from her where Theo should have been. 

As if her thoughts had summoned him, he hurried through the door behind her and collapsed into his seat without sparing her a second glance. “Sorry father,” he said quietly, bowing his head to shovel food into his mouth. 

“Relax,” Tiberius chuckled, beginning to cut into his chicken. “This is our first meal together in a week and you’re rushing as if you have anywhere better to be than here with your family.”

Theo gulped and shifted in his seat. “Sorry,” he repeated, slowing his motions but still keeping his gaze focused on the plate in front of him. Hermione frowned. 

The rest of the meal progressed similarly. Theo didn’t look up at her once and Tiberius monopolized the conversation by droning on and on about useless subjects, in Hermione’s opinion. Eventually, she had enough and slammed her fork down onto her plate, the clanging silverware echoing through the dining room. 

“I can’t do this,” she scoffed and made to stand, almost tripping over her chair as it caught on the rug below with the speed she kicked it out. 

“What are you talking about?” Tiberius asked, furrowing his brow. Theo was looking at her now. 

“Last night I got a bomb of information thrown on me that you both have had no trouble keeping from me for weeks,” she seethed, her hands in tight fists at her sides. “Information about some ritual that happens next month that Theo promised me he would tell me about today, but he’s been MIA and won’t even look at me. To top it all off, you’re sitting here, talking like you haven’t been avoiding me for an entire week! I’m not doing this. And if you won’t tell me I’ll go find someone that will.” 

Her toes had just brushed the entrance to the hallway when she heard Tiberius sigh and beckon her to return. She froze, willing her temper to recede, as silently counted to three. Hermione rejoined them at the table and looked expectantly between the two of them. 

Tiberius sighed again before beginning. “This conversation is not an easy one to have. In a normal situation, you would have grown up your whole life knowing what Litha is and what to expect.”

Hermione nodded and informed him of what she had learned the night prior. When she finished, Tiberius seemed strained. His eyes did not leave hers. 

“Is that all you were able to discuss last night?” He asked. 

“Well, yes, Theo promised the rest today,” she shot him another pointed look, to which he turned his attention to the table in front of him. 

“I see,” Tiberius murmured, sitting back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap, tapping his pointer fingers together in thought. 

Hermione shifted impatiently in her chair and tugged at the hem of her shirt. 

“Litha is very important to our community. I’m glad that Theo and his friends were able to tell you a little about the parts of the celebration they remember. The entire community always comes together on Litha to celebrate, so people of all ages are there. The most important part of the ceremony, however, occurs the summer you turn twenty. You and your peers will climb to the highest part of the mountain there where it is shielded from the rest of us, both the younger children that are not yet the right age, and the older adults that have already paired off and no longer must take part.”

He took a long sip of his wine and looked towards Hermione to make sure she was following along. He seemed satisfied and thus he continued. 

“Back when the original covenant was made, after Morgana shifted the responsibility to the Sacred Twenty-Eight families, it was decided that a ritualistic aspect would be added to strengthen the bond every year. This ritual uses blood magic among… other things. There are aspects of blood magic throughout most of Litha, this is not new, however, when you are twenty, you are at prime magical maturity. You are fully developed and established, and your magical core is stable and secure. Magically, you enter into a sweet spot. The magic capitalizes off of this, and chooses this time period to pair you with your soulmate.”

Hermione nearly choked. “Soulmate? What are you talking about?”   


Theo was watching her carefully as he answered. “It is in everyone’s best interest that our family lines continue on. The Sacred Twenty-Eight families obviously benefit from this, seeing as overtime we get stronger and stronger. Our individual family magic has grown exponentially over the years, even despite the road bump that occurred with your father. Anyways, I’m sure you’ve noticed that your magic has stabilized since you’ve been living here.”

“Well, yes, actually, it’s become increasingly easier for me to perform wandless or wordless magic,” Hermione responded in a quiet voice. “I thought that just had to do with me practicing, however. What was that about my father?” 

“It does,” Theo nodded in agreement, “but it also involves the family magic. Since you’ve embraced your history and started living in the ancestral home, the family magic has encouraged you. The house and the elves already recognized you, even before we did. Family magic is really interesting, and it’s something we should discuss at length later, but the more pressing issue is still Litha.”

“Yes, I understand why we would benefit from our lines continuing, and I’m sure the land would benefit from the covenant continuing on as well. But what is it that you’re saying? We get, what, married off?” She laughed, turning now to face her uncle.

Neither of them laughed and Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. “You can’t be serious,” she implored, looking between them again. Her eyes dashed back and forth and she started hyperventilating. “You are not telling me I’m to be married in only a few short weeks, and I don’t even get to pick who it is.”

“Mia, dear, do try to take a deep breath,” Tiberius said softly, reaching across to graze her forearm in a comforting gesture. When she had relaxed slightly, he confirmed her fears. “Yes, darling, you and the others will take part in a specific ritual that may pair you off. The Pairing is very difficult to explain, and there are things that are kept so secret that even I do not know how to explain. But in terms that I’m sure you can understand, your magic chooses your perfect match. This partnership is described intellectually, physically, emotionally; this person is your true partner in life. In a way, you are ‘picking’ who it is. Your magical core is the most inherent part of you and it knows you better than even you think you know yourself. Your magic, it comes from the land. The land just serves as a conduit for this exchange to take place.”

This, strangely, seemed to relax Hermione. She began questioning if she was going into shock, and if everything that happened to her in the past few months was coming to a head, right this second, and she was falling off the deep end to be so comforted by those words. 

No, she decided, she was not spiraling towards the deep and dark abyss. Logically, she knew what they were telling her made sense and supported the magical theory she studied through her formative years. She was still utterly freaked out, but it did make her feel better that this wasn’t some random process. Her magic, which came from the same land as everyone else, would choose her life partner. She trusted her magic more than anything else in the entire world, wizarding or muggle. She could trust it with this too. 

She took another minute for herself before she nodded and spoke up. “So, everyone gets paired off at twenty? Isn’t Arthur Weasley a few years older than Molly?” 

Tiberius nodded. “Everybody goes to the mountain in the summer of their twentieth year. Those that do not get paired are notified when to return to the mountain during the other daytime celebrations in the following years. It is not unusual for people to attend for a few years before they get paired, but it is also not unusual for partnerships to be made the first time either.”

She turned to Theo, “This doesn’t freak you out a little? That you could be married next month?”

He shrugged at her, shooting her a soft smile. “My magic knows when it’s the right time. There aren’t many unpaired older women, but I wouldn’t have any complaints if I were to get paired with any of them. If I have to wait a few years, I’m okay with that too. It gives me longer to live out my bachelor life,” he chuckled and winked at her. 

Hermione grinned and shook her head in mock disapproval. “So blood magic and possible marriage. In about six weeks.” 

Tiberius nodded, “Basically. Among other things. You and Theo have something to do on Wednesday, actually.”

Hermione looked expectantly at her cousin. 

“Oh yeah,” he seemed a little chastened as though he had completely forgotten. “We have to actually go and check-in.”

Hermione looked at him in confusion, urging him to continue silently. 

“Check-in, for the ceremony. It’s why your father didn’t want you to waste any time seeking us out, probably. Everyone of age has to reaffirm their commitment. We have to go to the mountain and basically tell the land to expect us this year. If a living Sacred Twenty-Eight skips out, there are some… strong consequences.” 

“Is that what Daphne wanted me for?” she questioned, nibbling on her bottom lip. “She said we had things to get done now that I knew about the ritual.” 

Theo shook his head. “Nah, she probably wants to take you to prepare by getting your dress and everything set. Truthfully I also think she just wants an excuse to get to know you better. Daph’s never been close with the other girls our age besides Pansy and she’s more than a little nervous for Litha this year.”

“Oh, and you don’t want to come dress shopping with us, Theodore?” She said teasingly, tilting her head to one side. 

He grimaced in response. “No way. I already have to drag Blaise and Draco to get our sets done and they’re both being complete peacocks about the whole thing.”

Hermione rolled her eyes before something occurred to her. “Wait, I thought you said that non- Sacred Twenty Eight can’t know about this.” 

Tiberius nodded, “That is correct.”

“Am I wrong to assume that this and the other rituals that occur around the year, that are vital and impossible for any of us to miss, don’t have something to do with your house arrest sentence instead of Azkaban?” 

Tiberius smiled genuinely at her. “Intuitive, you are. Yes, dearest, that was part of the reason why I was able to avoid Azkaban. Sacred Twenty-Eight can still get sent to Azkaban, and I’m sure you can think of a couple that have been. Combined with my inaction and lower status in the war, the importance of my attendance this year made it impossible for me to be in Azkaban. I needed to be here to prepare Theodore, especially since the magic has been calling stronger every year since all of the bloodshed. Luckily I was able to be here for the both of you.”

“But how can that be? If non- Sacred Twenty-Eight cannot be told about it, how would anything like that ever be allowed?” She asked incredulously.

“Have you forgotten our new Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt is Sacred Twenty-Eight?” He chuckled before continuing. “He had a lot of influence over those decisions, I’m sure, and many Sacred Twenty-Eight are deeply rooted in the Ministry, which certainly makes things easier. All of our families hold the oldest, and therefore most influential, seats on the Wizengamot, so we have always been able to create our own laws to protect us. To answer your question, however, there are rumors. Pureblood families that are not Sacred Twenty-Eight and Halfblood families that have been around long enough to notice, know deep down something out of their control is going on. People are not stupid, Mia, and they have their own stories that are brushed off as fairytale that we know to be true. I think it mostly just comes down to them inherently knowing it's something they cannot understand, trusting those that do understand it, and knowing when not to ask questions.”

Tiberius chuckled before standing, which prompted both Hermione and Theo to rise to their feet as well. “I’ll be off to bed now, this has been a long and tiresome week for me. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Not long after, he disappeared into the hall. The two left the dining room and began heading towards their own suites. 

Hermione looked at Theo as they walked and raised the corner of her mouth in what she hoped was a smile, but the absence of his father only brought back the previous tension between them. “Where did you run off to? I was worried about you when you didn’t come back at all today, you know.” 

Theo averted his gaze, studying the floor. “Draco needed me.” 

Hermione sighed, looking straight ahead of her. “Look, I know things got heated-” 

“Hermione,” he said firmly as he stopped short abruptly. Hermione came to a halt and turned completely towards him, gripping her hands together in worry. He looked frustrated and turned away from her silently for a long moment before facing her once again. 

“Hermione,” he tried again, his voice slightly lower and more even this time around. “I know you and Draco have a complicated past. I get it. I do. He shouldn’t have pushed you like he did last night but-”

Hermione instantly bristled. “Oh, don’t you start on me too. After you two disappeared everyone immediately took his side and told me I should have kept my mouth shut. If you’re about to tell me that too, knowing he riled me up on purpose, save your breath.”

Her shoes echoed loudly down the hallway as she sped to the stairs, only halting when she heard him call out to her for the second time. 

“You can’t just run away from this conversation,” he raised his voice, chasing after her until he caught back up. “I wasn’t getting on your case, Hermione. I just agreed with you that he shouldn’t have pushed you like he did. But you also can’t be as reactive as you were last night. I get things have been difficult, it’s all been a lot for you to take in. But you need to try too. You need to meet everyone halfway, and going forward you can’t let people force a reaction out of you that easily. You probably won’t believe me, but Draco was trying to joke around with you last night. He shouldn’t have kept pushing when you were getting upset, but you took things too far just throwing that on everyone. No one even knew you had been at Malfoy Manor, and I only know because I’m the only one that knows about Draco’s PTSD.”

Hermione froze. “M-Malfoy has PTSD?  _ You  _ have heard of PTSD?” Her right hand immediately came to her left forearm, unconsciously covering the scar that lay beneath several extra glamours today- the usual two hadn’t felt like enough. She had felt so… exposed this morning. 

“Of course. Draco was in rough shape after the war, like just about every other wizard in England, regardless of what side they fought on. This is not my place to tell you. Personally, I think you two need to hash this out on your own. If he wants you to know, he will. Just know I came home as early as it was safe to do so.” 

Hermione gulped as she took in this information and she felt a pang of sympathy for the wizard. Hermione had been seeing a Muggle therapist on and off since the war when her symptoms were bad. She had gone on for months and months to Harry and Ron about seeing therapists of their own to no avail. The boys had chosen to deal with the war by simply pretending it didn’t affect them anymore and throwing all of their energy into Auror training and moving on with their lives. 

Malfoy was still wrong for how he treated her, and just because he was recovering from the war didn’t mean that he could act however he wanted. On the other hand, though, Hermione may have overreacted in her own right. She had always been more reactive since the war, and it was something she was trying to work through during her treatment. 

_ “In situations where an individual fears they are not doing enough, or perhaps where they physically cannot act to enact change in a dangerous environment, once that danger has passed they may become overly reactive in order to feel prepared or in control. Traumatic events change the way our brains work, perceiving every situation as a possible threat, and as a result, keep the individual ready and prepared to fight back. A state of constant vigilance becomes maladaptive in life post-trauma and can make it difficult for the individual to connect intrapersonally.”  _

The passage she had reread hundreds of times in her own research suddenly knocked itself off the bookshelf it was stored in her brain and she envisioned herself walking over to replace it. As she held the book in her hands, she reread the passage again and slammed the book shut before refocusing on Theo, who was studying her worryingly. 

“Look, I’m sorry. Draco’s my best mate, and you are my family. I knew this was never going to be easy, and I’m not saying you should let him treat you like that. I’m just saying there’s more to the situation than you think and for this all to work you need to try too.”

“No, I understand.” She hesitated for a second before she wrapped her arms tight around his abdomen, sighing in relief when she felt his hands rest at her shoulders. “I’m sorry too, I’m trying, but I’ll try harder. You’re right, he and I should talk.” 

Theo hummed into her hair, squeezing her tight for a beat before releasing her. “We should head to bed. It’ll get better, and I’m on your side every step of the way.”

* * *

On Wednesday morning, Hermione woke early, practiced Occlumency in the bath, and got ready for the day. She was so excited to actually get to do something ritual-related that she beat both Tiberius and Theo to breakfast. They found her in her usual seat nearly bouncing with excited, nervous energy. They both chuckled at the sight. 

After breakfast, Theo side along apparated them both to the ritual grounds. Tiberius had been sullen that he could not escape house arrest just to escort them to the check-in. He assured Hermione (and what Hermione knew to also be a reassuring gesture to Theo, without making a big deal of it) that Theo was more than ready to lead them both on this journey. 

As their feet touched the ground, Hermione whipped her head back and forth and drank in their surroundings. They were in a valley at the base of a tall mountain, in an area that seemed to be designated for apparition. She didn’t know what she had expected, but she found herself becoming slightly disappointed that it looked so normal. It was as if she and Theo were just going for a stroll in the woods. 

As though he sensed this, Theo started walking towards the direction of a worn path that led up the mountain. “It looks much different during Litha,” he explained. “It’s a whole day-long celebration, and it’s totally transformed.” 

Hermione flushed as he seemed to read her mind and shook her head. “I’m excited to see what it will be like. I’ve… I’ve never gotten to take part in anything like this before.” 

Theo smiled at her and playfully nudged her arm as they hiked up the path. “No taking notes. This is all about the experience. I’m sure we could find you a Pensieve so you can overanalyze everything after Litha.” 

She rolled her eyes and kicked a rock, watching it as it rolled up the incline and then began rolling down past them in the opposite direction they were walking in. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and felt the fresh air settle in her lungs. “What if I get paired this year?” She asked him quietly. 

Theo shrugged, “Then you live happily ever after.”

She shoved him as she scoffed. “Be serious!”

“I am always serious,” he said, his right hand over his heart in mock offense. “That’s the whole point of this. You get to be happy and be loved with your perfect match as chosen by your magic and the ancient magic that lives in these grounds.” He moved his hand in a lazy circle, vaguely gesturing around them. “And then you pop out some sprogs and live your life.” 

Hermione frowned. “It just bothers me that I don’t know who it’ll be. Obviously, it can’t be you.” When he didn’t immediately agree, she felt a pang of alarm. “Right?!”

He burst out laughing and rolled his eyes at her. “The odds of that happening are immensely low. We’re first cousins, it’s pretty much unheard of. Plus, and I mean this in the most loving way possible, I would strangle you if I had to be married to you the rest of our lives. You seem like the sort that snores.”

Hermione opened and closed her mouth, any notion of a previous response disintegrating into the air between them. “I do not snore,” she almost spat, feeling strangely hurt by this entirely baseless accusation. 

“Mhmm,” he hummed, smirking at her as he nudged her off the cleared path. There was still a natural but unmarked pathway that was narrower than the one they were walking on previously. A few minutes later, they broke off onto an even narrower path, and they both had to pull back branches to clear their way through. Theo shimmied in front of her and shoved his way through more overgrown brush before holding it back for her and continuing forward.

“You’ll be happy with whoever it is, Mia. I try not to think about it and hope for someone when they may not be ideal for me. I’m just letting it happen.”

Hermione ducked under a branch that Theo let go of, narrowly missing it as it swung through the air. “I wonder if I’ll get Ron. I honestly couldn’t imagine it, we tried dating once and it just felt so… off. I would hope my magic knows better than that and that we’re well suited to be just friends. I could be happy with Neville, I’d like to think,” she thought aloud, also choosing to ignore Theo’s dramatic sigh. “Our home would be like a jungle though, with all of the plants of course. I’d imagine it not look very different from what we’re trekking through right now.”

“Hermione, please, I’m not entertaining these discussions. Did you hear me?” He scoffed, hacking another branch down before the path opened back up again, allowing them to walk normally without brush assaulting them.

“Could you imagine if it was Blaise?” She giggled, thinking about her future arguing with him over slight color differences of robes and being lectured on the importance of Quidditch in Wizarding society. There was a leaf caught in Theo’s waves. She waved her hand and focused hard, beaming when the leaf removed itself. Wandless magic was becoming easier every day.

“Hermione, please.” They were approaching the side of the mountain, the path seemed to end abruptly at the stone.

“He could teach me Italian. I’ve always wanted to learn another language, and I thought it would be French before anything else but Italian is beautiful too. Well, there aren’t that many guys our age besides Malfoy right-” She stopped short, eyes wide. “It won’t be Malfoy, will it, Theo?”

Theo released another exaggerated sigh and yanked her forward by the arm. “I know as well as you do. Now, enough. We’re here anyway.”

She shook those laughable thoughts from her mind and allowed him to drag her to the wall of the mountain. Confused, she looked up at him. Predictably, he rolled his eyes again with a smirk and pulled out his wand. 

On the smooth slab in front of them, he drew the Nott crest and to Hermione’s interest, the crest appeared as though it had been carved into the slab. When Theo finished, the crest glowed a brilliant gold, and Theo sliced a line down his palm. When his blood broke through his skin he pressed his hand to the slab and held it in place, waiting for Hermione to do the same. She barely winced as she felt the cut in her palm, and slapped her hand next to his. The crest shone with a bright gold that drank in their blood; the energy around them hummed as the old magic recognized and welcomed them. The light darkened into a deep maroon before the crest disappeared in the stone and the slab shifted aside so they could enter the mountain itself. As she passed under the threshold, her skin tingled almost imperceptibly. The magic was strong here and being in its presence made her blood sing. 

“I can feel the magic here. It feels even older than the wards at Hogwarts, which I guess makes sense,” Hermione didn’t even realize she had been speaking out loud until Theo responded. 

“This isn’t even a fraction of it. The mountain lays dormant until the solstice. This is as far as I’ve been able to come. Father made sure I made this walk every year so I could find our entrance. He said he and Uncle Richard used to hike all around the mountain and try to find the other entrances.”

“Every family has their own cave?” Her voice unwittingly dropped to a whisper as they climbed in. Inside was a small room, barely taller than Theo, and she estimated that four people could stand comfortably inside. Their familiar family tree covered the walls around them, and the names were carved into the stone instead of a tapestry like they had back home. The air was cool and almost damp. Once the slab sealed shut behind them, torches on the walls ignited and cast a soft glow. 

“Yeah. I’ve never made it past the entrance room though. Not for lack of trying, either. The magic here is very complex and it knows when it’s not time. Come here, and place your palm over your name.” His volume matched hers and he began smearing his blood over his name on the wall to their right. She followed behind him and waited again for the telltale hum and gold glow of blood wards. 

A loud sound of rock moving on rock filled their small space, and they turned to find another slab covered in the names of their eldest family members shifting aside and beckoning them to enter into the next room. This room was much taller and extremely dark. They couldn’t see more than a meter in front of them. Theo found two torches and held them to one on the wall, lighting them both, and held one out for Hermione to grab. 

They both explored in reverent silence, finding nothing of interest. The entire area was bare aside from another indentation in the wall that should bring them deeper into the mountain. They both pressed their hands against the door, hands still bloodied and cut open, but felt the wards push back against them and refuse passage. 

“Huh,” Theo looked puzzled. “Guess that one is the big one then. We’ll probably be able to enter it during Litha.” 

Hermione took the liberty of healing both of their hands, which sealed up perfectly without marks. They walked around the room, trying to find what they were missing when suddenly the ground began to shift underneath them. A pool of water revealed itself to them and Hermione felt drawn to it. 

It only took a few steps before she was at the edge of the shallow pool, and its appearance up close was perplexing. The water glittered off the stone ceiling as though it was illuminated from within, but no light source could be seen. The water was entirely clear and welcoming. When Hermione dipped her pointer finger in, it was warm. 

As she did this, her torch floated gently from her grasp and levitated over the pool, on the side across from them. She looked up inquisitively at Theo who had come to a stop at her left and was feeling the water for himself. 

“Are we supposed to… swim?” She asked, turning her attention back to her finger as she dragged it through the crystalline water. His torch joined hers on the other side.

“Dunno,” Theo shrugged. “I suppose getting in won’t hurt. It doesn’t look dangerous.” 

Hermione shrugged at him before she swung both of her legs over the edge and into the water. It was even warmer. She felt relaxed as she did this and in her heart, she knew this was the right choice. She shot him a smile before pushing off the side and submerging her entire body in the water. 

Lights danced behind her closed eyelids and she remained submerged, entirely at peace. The water enveloped her like a long, overdue hug, and her magical core was thrumming with energy. She basked in this feeling until she could hold her breath no longer. She gasped as she broke the surface and startled Theo, who anxiously paced at the edge. 

“Merlin, Mia, you were down there for ages!” He whisper-shouted, but visibly relaxed when he realized she was unharmed. As she pushed herself up on the opposite side, where the torches lay suspended in the air, a bright light shot from the water onto the ceiling, and the rune Kenaz was projected. 

They watched in awed silence as Kenaz traveled across the room to the indentation of the door and fused with the stone, glowing a light gold. Theo wasted no time jumping into the pool. The bright light wrapped around his body, entirely shielding it from view, and Hermione had to cover her eyes so as to not be blinded by its brilliance in the cave.

Minutes later, he emerged gasping for breath, and the light dimmed to a bearable level. Hermione moved aside as he threw himself up onto the slab next to her and they both looked to the same spot the rune appeared before. 

On the ceiling this time was Wunjo and Theo grinned at Hermione as the rune took its place next to hers on the door. “Kenaz and Wunjo, Torch and Joy. How fitting.”

Hermione grinned back. “We’ll have to do some research when we get home. It’s been a while since I’ve even thought about ancient runes. I might have received an O in my OWLS but-”

Theo pulled her up with him and waved his wand, casting a strong drying charm over them both. “Yes, yes, I look forward to spending the entire afternoon researching our runes but can we at least get some food first? All of this spelunking certainly works up an appetite.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I've been loving all of your comments recently and I'm doing my best to get to them all. One comment I received last week asked if I took any inspiration from "This, Too, Is Sacred" by HeartOfAspen on here, which I would like to address here. 
> 
> While I took slight inspiration by the exploration of more ritualistic elements in Harry Potter, I'm sure those that have read that story can see the differences in our ideas. I'm always drawn more to fanfiction that has almost anthropological approaches such as TTIS and Nocturnus by In_Dreams (To name just a couple of examples) because I find these to be more interesting and bring in new flavor to Dramione fics.
> 
> I've taken great care to make sure that this inspiration stays just that and does not influence my future plot plans at all but I appreciate this person bringing it up. If you haven't read either of the fics I just mentioned and you like this aspect of my fanfic, give them a shot! 
> 
> As always, I'll see you next Tuesday!
> 
> Connect with me on TikTok at https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeYNjF1e/ (Same name)


	7. Chapter 7

_Thursday, May 18, 2000_

The owl from Daphne came early in the week and Hermione had wasted no time at all responding in the affirmative to a much-needed girl’s day. She was looking forward to spending some time out of the Manor.

She Floo’d exactly at 1 pm to the Greengrass estate and was greeted by Daphne as soon as she walked out of the fireplace, casting a quick _Scourgify_ over herself to get rid of the ash clinging to her. 

“Hello, Hermione,” Daphne greeted with a broad smile and a peck to the cheek. She gave her an appraising once-over and nodded her approval. “That color looks brilliant on you.”

Pink graced her cheeks and she glanced down at her dress, smoothing it down with her palms. She had chosen a light blue sleeveless dress and paired it with a light cardigan and her favorite kitten heels. Daphne was clothed similarly in a short-sleeved lilac dress and she looked perfect. Her hair was pressed straight, not a strand out of place. 

She was barely able to share her thanks before Daphne looked towards the Floo. “Right, we’ll just wait here for Pansy and then we’ll be all set!”

Hermione jolted. “Pansy?”

Daphne turned back to face her, grimacing slightly. “I know, I know, I just think it’ll all be good-”

Hermione sighed and clasped her hands in front of her. “Fine. I’ll wait until she arrives. I have something to say to both of you anyway.” Daphne frowned.

Just after, the fireplace lit green again as a prim and polished Pansy ducked out of it. Pansy and Daphne greeted each other with kisses to the cheeks and Pansy bowed her head slightly in greeting to Hermione. Hermione returned the nod and took a deep breath before she spoke. 

“I get the two of you are close with Malfoy, certainly much closer than either of you are with me. That being said, if we have any chance of being friends, you need to realize that I can’t just erase all of the feelings that arose from the way you all acted towards me during Snake Night and at Hogwarts. I know I’m the outsider here. I’m trying, but if either of you tries to make me feel crazy again Theo’s just going to have to see you when I’m not around.”

To Hermione’s bewilderment, Pansy grinned. “Sounds good, Golden Girl. Are you ready to go, or is there more you would like to talk about before we get to have fun?” 

“Um, no, that’s all.”

Daphne smiled and reached for Hermione. “We hear you," they both exchanged a quick look, "and we're sorry. It's an adjustment for everyone but I promise we're trying too."

Hermione shrugged and smiled at them. "We all agreed on a fresh start. No need to keep apologizing, just respect my boundaries."

When they both nodded, Hermione allowed them to pull her towards the Floo. "Let’s go.”

The three stepped into the Floo, calling out the Leaky Cauldron in succession.

* * *

Hermione smiled as she stepped out into Diagon Alley and followed Pansy and Daphne to their next destination. It still surprised her how little it had changed from the place that introduced her to the wizarding world. Diagon Alley did not emerge from the war unscathed, but it was repaired quickly due to the desire shared by many to move on quickly from it.

The rubble and signs of destruction were long gone, but on days when no one is outside the heavy weight of death and terror that comes with living in a war-torn area seems to seep back in and infect everything down the cobblestones that the street is composed of. Shop windows seem dingier, the air thicker, and people walk quicker to spend less time feeling so exposed.

Luckily, on the beautiful day that it was, it felt like it had when they were young and excitedly shopping for school supplies before the start of term. It was crowded, loud, and very busy. Wizards walked at a leisurely pace, kids snacked on their treats in between giggles, women enjoyed their tea in the patio seating as they gossiped, entirely carefree. Diagon was much busier than the girls had anticipated and Hermione struggled to keep up with them as they weaved through the crowd. 

A man popped out of one of the doorways, carrying so many parcels stacked on top of each other that he nearly knocked Hermione to the ground. Instead, she flew backward and was held up by someone behind her. 

The man started apologizing profusely, his eyes growing as wide as saucers as he realized he just publicly accosted the Golden Girl. As she rushed to assure him she was fine, her eyes scanned the crowd in front of her in search of Pansy and Daphne. 

“Bugger,” she muttered under her breath. They were nowhere to be found. She seemed to remember her manners and turned to thank the person who had kept her upright and was startled to see a familiar flash of platinum in front of her eyes. 

“Malfoy, thanks,” she breathed, flushing. Of _course,_ it would be him. How embarrassing. “I’m sorry, there wasn’t- I didn’t-”

“Don’t mention it, Granger,” he shrugged and she suddenly noticed his hand still pressed up against the small of her back, as though he didn’t trust her to remain upright without it. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ve just lost Daphne and Pansy,” she responded, searching ahead of them again and wishing they would pop back up. 

He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and finally dropped the other arm from her. “Look- I’d actually like to talk to you for a second if you have a moment.”

Hermione hesitated, looking once more for the girls, and sighed. “Sure. I’ll just send a Patronus and hopefully, you can help me find them after.”

He nodded, relieved, and she pulled out of her wand. A silvery otter appeared and swam in the air between them as it waited for her message. 

“Please tell Pansy and Daphne that we got separated but not to worry, I’m getting a cuppa with Malfoy before we try to find them again.” The otter nodded before disappearing into the crowd, and Hermione looked up at Draco with a small, uncomfortable smile.

He started leading her out of the crowd to a small cafe nearby. Once the Muffliato was cast and the tea ordered, he faced her and shifted slightly in his chair. She folded her hands in her lap and looked at him expectantly. A long moment passed as he studied her, and she studied him, and they tuned out the rest of the world around them. 

“I’m sorry for what happened the other night.”

Hermione tried to keep the surprise off her face at hearing an apology come out of Draco Malfoy’s mouth. A fresh pot of Earl Grey floated its way over to their table and she busied herself preparing both of their cups as she waited for him to continue. 

“I was being an arsehole to you. Like I have most of our lives,” he laughed awkwardly and Hermione couldn’t help but let the corners of her mouth lift slightly in agreement. “And it wasn’t fair of me to just run off but um-” he cleared his throat and rubbed his jaw as he studied the table. “- I just, I’m still just working through some things and you took me by surprise is all.” 

Hermione grimaced as she was reminded of baring her scar to the group and rubbed her forearm subconsciously. Draco noticed. 

He took a deep breath. His voice was deep and even, his piercing grey eyes locked onto hers and she felt like he was looking into her soul. “There’s a lot I have to apologize to you for, Granger. I’ve, uh,-” he pulled out an envelope from his robes and placed it in front of her on the table. “I wrote this about a year ago. I tried sending it but it came back via return owl a couple of weeks later and I haven’t had the courage to try sending it again since. I just, I didn’t know if it would do less harm to just leave you alone. You don’t have to read it, I realized I should give you the choice of hearing what I had to say if you wanted.”

She slid his cup of tea over to him and he dropped two sugar cubes in his tea. She regarded the envelope carefully in her hands before slipping it into her bag. The edges were worn as if he had spent a lot of time holding it.

“Okay,” she muttered and his eyebrow raised just the tiniest amount. She blew on her tea as she organized her thoughts. “I overreacted a little the other night. I was so nervous to spend time with all of you together and I was anticipating you in particular were going to make things hell for me. When you started pushing I was all too ready to jump on it and definitely not sober enough to react in ways I’ve practiced in therapy. I’ve been dealing with a lot too, so I get what you’re saying,” she shrugged and brought her cup to her lips, noticing how he mirrored her across the table. 

Draco seemed to be battling with himself. He turned his attention outside and watched as people walked by, but Hermione could tell it was to decide how he wanted to respond, not to ignore her. Theo often shared the same expression when deep in thought, and Hermione took the opportunity to continue. 

“What I will not put up with, Malfoy-” he met her eyes once again and fidgeted with his teacup, “is your incessant bullying. I’m not a little girl anymore, and whatever reason you have for being an arsehole isn’t good enough to try to make me also feel like shit. I went through more than anyone should ever have to go through during the war, and I’m _tired_. I’ve done a lot of growing up and self-reflection these past couple of years and I cannot keep fighting old battles.”

Her voice dropped quieter, and he leaned forward slightly in his chair to hear her. “I’m so, so tired of it all. I don’t have the energy to excuse your problems or fight you to realize I deserve a place in this world as a Muggle-born or Pureblood.” She met his eyes again as she continued and raised her voice as she spoke more patiently. “It’s not my fault that you had a rough go of it, and it’s not my responsibility to skirt around you. I have come to love Theo, dearly, and I’m not going anywhere and am not going to make him choose one of us over the other. If we can agree to stop going for each other’s jugulars, I think we could find a way to get along for his sake if not for our own. Maybe someday we could sit down and talk more about this and get it all out on the table.” 

His expression was perplexing, Hermione had never seen him look at her the way he was at the moment. Minutes of silence elapsed as he searched her face and she calmly sipped her tea, allowing him to find whatever he was looking for. “Is that what you want? For us to have a heart-to-heart and be… friends?” he asked quietly, without a hint of mockery. He sounded uncertain.

She bit her lip as she considered this. Draco and she would likely be in each other’s orbit for the foreseeable future and cross paths most likely as long as Theo was alive. It surprised her that he wrote her a letter, presumably explaining or apologizing- as he hinted to her- about how he had treated her. It seemed a little far-fetched that they could get along and be friends, as he had suggested, but then again everything about this year was out of the normal for her and she didn’t really _know_ Draco Malfoy or any of the snakes besides Theo. She knew that he had also suffered during the war, and even though they had never been on good terms before now didn’t mean that they couldn’t be. I guess it really depended on what he had to say to her and if they could feasibly interact without trying to kill each other. She took a leap of faith. 

“Why not,” she shrugged, and the corner of his mouth lifted. “I’ll read your letter and then decide what realistically is the best for me. If there’s any way that we can coexist without having to compromise ourselves then I think it’s worth pursuing.”

She prepared herself for him to scoff, roll his eyes, or mock her as he would have at Hogwarts. Instead, he studied her and gave her a small smile. “Granger, I would love a do-over. I’ll prove to you I’m a different man than the one you knew as a teenager. From what Theo’s told me, you’re not the same girl from Hogwarts, either.”

Her lips gave way to an equally small smile and she released the bated breath that was trapped in her throat. She finished off her tea, waiting for him to do the same. 

Just then, a white butterfly fluttered to their table and touched down on the rip of Hermione’s teacup. Daphne’s voice echoed out of the small Patronus as the wings flexed. “I’m glad you’re alright, Pansy and I stopped for a quick snack. Draco, can you please escort her to Madam Rousseau's? We’re headed there now.” The butterfly dissolved into a mist as Draco nodded, gulping down the rest of his tea. 

“Shall we?” 

They walked in tandem down the alley, Draco first with Hermione following behind when the crowds grew thicker. He cleared the way and shielded her from bustling elbows and she almost ran into his back when he stopped short for two children that were howling laughter as they drifted behind their parents. 

They kept walking until the crowds thinned and Hermione tentatively trailed to his side. They walked in silence, but strangely Hermione felt calm and settled. From the few glances she snuck out of the corner of her eye, he appeared the same. He walked slowly, aware of his much larger gait, and matched her pace without a second thought. 

They appeared outside of a dress shop, a place that Hermione Granger would never even think about entering. Amelia Nott, however, had access to more galleons in a Gringotts vault than she could ever hope to spend and her eyes were drawn immediately to the nice dresses in the display. 

Malfoy examined the look on her face with a smirk before holding the door open for her. Inside, rows after rows of the most expensive fabrics and a multitude of colors met her eyes. Draco let her take it in for a moment before he led her to the back of the store and pulled out his wand. 

He looked at her, making sure she was watching before he tapped it against a brick that was slightly lighter in color than the others. “ _Absque argento omnia vana,”_ he said quietly, beckoning her to enter the passage that opened for them. 

She waited until the wall closed up behind them before crossing her arms and turning to face him, “Without money all is in vain? That’s disgusting and I hate it.” 

He actually laughed and Hermione’s annoyance fizzled to nothing. It was one of the most wonderful sounds she’s ever heard and the first time she had actually heard Draco truly laugh in an unguarded manner. The deep vibrato was unfamiliar but somehow… soothing. His steel-gray eyes twinkled and were crinkled at the corners, a barely-there dimple appeared on his left cheek by his smile lines. He looked so different from when they were younger that Hermione was taken aback. 

Hermione took that moment to take a look at Draco, really _look_ at Draco without distraction. His hair is a bit tousled and soft, the fringe draping just below his eyebrows and even curling under the ears. He had grown into his aristocratic, pointed facial features, which dare she say, were rather chiseled now. She noticed that under his formal robes, he wore a light-blue tailor-fit muggle suit cut in just the right places paired with a white dress shirt and tan dragonhide loafers - a far cry from the intimidating, all black, Malfoy-esque ensembles she remembered. Draco Malfoy was a _fit_ wizard and Hermione’s breath hitched just a bit at the realization. 

“Of course you do, Granger,” he snorted as they climbed the steps. “This up here is what we call Madam Rousseau's. Anytime you need something ritual dress-related, tap the brick that I showed you and say the password. The regular shop downstairs is known to cater to wealthier clientele, but Madam Rousseau’s is strictly Sacred Twenty-Eight. This is why you couldn’t have just found it on your own.”

“Do a lot of dress shopping, Malfoy?” she teased, and he looked at her almost angrily before he realized the smirk on her face and relaxed.

“Yes, Granger, don’t you know I have a whole closet full of ball gowns at my flat?” he rolled his eyes at her, his signature smirk out in full glory. “She doesn’t just sell dresses. I’ve gotten a lot of my suits here, not to mention Mother is one of her most loyal patrons and I run errands for her quite a bit,” he sniffed. 

“Your flat?”

They walked down the hallway and Hermione gasped as it opened up into the elegant main room. It looked similar to the shop they had walked through. In the center of the room was a platform surrounded by mirrors, clearly for measurements and tailoring. On either side were various displays of different dresses, both traditional and modern in style. Most, Hermione realized, were embroidered with different runes and other ritualistic symbols. The displays almost seemed to separate off by family as well, as some familiar family crests were hung from the walls. The shop had beautiful dark marble flooring and Hermione was in awe.

Pansy and Daphne were off to the side, smiling as they spoke to a woman who looked no older than her early forties. Pansy noticed them approach out of the corner of her eye and nudged Daphne before turning to greet them. 

Draco bowed his head and kissed the woman’s proffered hand before he said hello to his friends. With the others preoccupied, the woman turned her attention to Hermione. 

“You must be young Missus Nott,” she spoke, her laser-like gaze roaming her frame before meeting her eyes again. “It is wonderful to meet your acquaintance. I’m so honored to be making your very first ritual dress for you. I am Madam Rousseau.” 

“Hello,” responded Hermione with a polite nod. “You have a lovely store, I’ve never seen anything quite like it.” 

The woman beamed and led Hermione over to the circular platform in front of a semicircle of mirrors. “My family has been in this business for a long time. My surname used to be Fawley, you see, and we’ve been taking care of all of the Sacred Twenty-Eight seamstress work for centuries.” 

She waved her wand and many small tape measures appeared, circling around Hermione and flitting back to Madam Rousseau to list off the various measurements. Hermione stood bewildered and caught Draco’s eye in the mirror as Pansy and Daphne hounded him for information on their tea, no doubt. His smirk at her obvious discomfort only grew when she shot him a frosty glare. 

Her focus returned to Madam Rousseau when she asked her about her rune. At the question the other three shut up, curiosity piqued, and awaited her response. “Kenaz.” 

Kenaz. The rune symbolizes knowledge, intellect, enthusiasm for uncovering the secret truths. Hermione was quite pleased with her rune, from what she had been able to research about it. Theo and she had poured over as many texts they could get their hands on about their assigned runes as soon as they returned home. Tiberius was gleeful when he heard of their assignments, and she’d written Ron excitedly as soon as she found out. 

Theo’s rune, Wunjo, suited him just as perfectly. It involved optimism, contentment, and placed emphasis on building strong and long-lasting friendships. It was also said to symbolize a natural aversion to alienation, which felt very fitting given their current circumstances.

“No surprise there,” she heard Pansy giggle behind her.

“I think it suits you perfectly.” Daphne was smiling at her as well.

Hermione’s grin at them only grew wider when she saw Malfoy playfully rolling his eyes at her. 

“As if there was another rune that would suit me,” she snipped and examined her nails, smirking at the surprised gasps that sounded from behind her. 

Pansy walked up and held her eyes in the reflection and appraised her openly, appearing to be seeing Hermione for the first time. “Oh, we can definitely work with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you all next Tuesday! 
> 
> connect with me on TikTok (same user) https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeYNjF1e/


End file.
